Is it toxic to write about someone who you like better than your closest friends? Is it toxic to choose your book (character) over real life people? I’m just saying, I’m writing about this person, and I really need them in my life right now.
I feel so panicked and so trapped. If I tried to pinpoint the cause that is producing the most anxiety, I’d have to say my life. My life is so trapped. I am trapped to the experiences that only I am capable of having. I’m limited to the things that I can do. I feel like I’ve already lived through my life, I’ve done all the things I can do, just this time it’s for real. And this is all I get. I don’t get to do any of the things I don’t do with my time. And I only get to do the things that I do. Time is so cruel and I’ve wasted so much of it. I also never gave myself a break from wasting time and I’m exhausted. I simply sit, panicked.
I don’t remember if I’ve said this in a past post, and I don’t particularly care, but..I really wish I was musically talented. More than any other talent, if I could write music, and play instruments, I would ahhhhhhh. That would be wonderful. But I think my separation from the music ‘world’ heightened my love for it, and appreciations for songs in general.
I really wanted to write reviews on my favorite songs at the moment and how they each have an effect on me, because I like writing reviews on things I love. 😉 SO here are my top five songs from the month.
Coming in fifth place for the month of April, we have Say Can You Hear by Men I Trust. The first time I heard this song, I was cleaning my room, nothing too romantic, but it’s the sort of song that can almost make you cry. I wish I could tell you which notes were sung in which order, because the chorus made me stop and play the song over and over. It’s like you listen to the whole song, for those three notes and you wish you could bathe in them, so beautiful. Later that week I gave the song a proper listen, the way one does, lying on the floor in the dark and feel the world bending around them.
Fourth place is gec 2 Ü (remix) by 100 gecs feat. Dorian Electra. The first time I heard this song, was the moment it was released. I consider myself a huge gecs fan and I stayed up till they dropped the song, to listen. The original version of this song gave me a similar feeling to Say Can You Hear, but this remix had a totally different feel. I associate a lot of gecs songs with my ex, so after we broke up, it was hard to listen to their music, but when they dropped this song, it was totally fresh and I was in love. There is even a portion of the song that sounds like out of control, gross, desperate sobbing. And lets just say it perfectly reflected the way I was feeling haha.
Coming up in THIRD place is Peacefall by Purity Ring. The first time I heard this song, I was make a paper mache duck…so my brother nad I could properly recreate the new 100 gecs album cover. (hahaha funny how all these things connect). Normally I don’t listen to music like this, but there is something about Peacefall that feels so infinite, and so peaceful. It feels like you’re tripping…backwards, because it’s fluid and smooth.
Second place is Hey Moon by John Maus. The first time I heard this song was on a walk to view the sunset. It’s a bit of a hike considering I live in Center city Philly and it’s hard to find a place that’s lear of buildings or bushes. I was shuffling a playlist that my favorite photographer, Muriel Margaret, had put on her story. I was struck by how peaceful this song sounded. And not in a totally consuming way like the previous song was, this one was a little more like, you knew where you were, and you knew your surroundings, and you could hold onto fluid thought strings in your head, and the song made them fluid. As with Peacefall, it was like you couldn’t think about anything other than the song. You know? Anyways, this song is good for super chill nights, but it’s definitely a lights on song, unlike Say Can You Hear.
AND THE MOMENT I’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR haha, number one, is I Hope You Die by Molly Nilsson. This song was made for dancing alone in the dark. I don’t know what to say, this song is so morbid and gripping, I love it. So much.
Please, listen to these songs. please. They’re all so good. 🙂
My world, or whatever you want to call the cave I share with my sister during these months, has been completely consumed by words. Reading blogs, books, and the english subtitles to La Belle Personne pirated on my chromebook at two in the morning(which, by the way, is splendid movie you should watch). I have been making great progress on my book-novel-whateveritendsupbeing, as well as a short story I’m writing with my little cousin. My mother also graciously purchased four more books for me, on top of the two that came last week to help keep me entertained. What books did I get? why, you should’ve asked sooner. From last week, she ordered The Conference of the Birds, which is the fifth novel of Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs. These books bring me great nostalgia from the wee times of fourth grade when the first book came out. It’s funky how long ago that was, and how the same books, are being written, adding more and more to the story even when I’ve moved on. It’s especially weird to think about how all of these books happen within a span of a month or so, yet, years pass between reading them. And I’m not one of those weird fucks that re-reads a series just to “refresh their memory” of the story before they read the next novel, oh no,if the story didn’t stick with me, I clearly wasn’t invested enough to care about what happened next, and chances are, never bought the next book. So. With that being said, I enjoy this series.
The second book is Inspection, a novel by Josh Malerman. Malerman also wrote Bird Box. I never read Bird Box, nor watched the movie, due to my wanting to be different and “not consuming the same media as everyone else and having the same thoughts and theories as everyone else” As I remember myself saying to a friend one time. Ignorant. Stupid. That’s 2018 me. Anyways, as I was saying, my limited knowledge of Bird Box furthered my interest in Inspection. My brother read this before me in a single afternoon and said it was wonderful, Here I am, three days in and can’t get past page 147. When I tell you it’s slow moving, I cannot stress. After expressing my concern to my brother that he might have very bad taste in books, and therefore I may never be able to trust his opinion again, he told me promising information that there was gore at the end. I live for gore. Not sure what that says about me, but I love it. So, I plow on…slowly. Trying to get to the end, or at least to the gore.
As for the four books that came in the mail this week, I won’t tell you. Because I don’t want to. And I’ll probably write about the more later. See ya.
ahoy. I’m back. I’ve noticed that I only blog when I’m at the end of my rope of boredom. It does absolutely nothing for be aside from giving me something to do in which I FEEL profession and like I’m actually getting things done.
I have developed a very bad, very vain, habit. When I’m bored, particularly since quarantine, I’ve been taking a shitload of selfies. Now, this does work for me as a form of self love, because I don’t hate the way I look, buttttt it doesn’t take long for me to become bored of my appearance. Like, I see picture of myself and I can no longer tell if it’s a good one of a bad one, it’s just eh. Holy shit, I just read that past sentence and omg first world problems I’m going to shut my mouth. Actually, I’m gonna keep going. I’m friends with a girl who snapchats me a lot, now, I don’t particularly like snapchat, it’s kinda eh. I guess I hate the component of how it’s always about your face and other people’s faces, like fr man, I dont give a fuck, if i wanted to see how you looked that day, I’d facetime you. But at the same time, the app lets people express themselves through photos in a low-pressure environment, whereas on Instagram, every photo you post has to be the best photo you have of yourself. Anyways, this girl snapchats me a lot, she also has tiktok where she makes lot’s of vain-ish videos. Now, by no means is this a bad thing, she is a very attractive girl (not that that would make a difference) and it’s nice to see that she feels good about herself, however, I feel the pressure of taking just as many photos and videos as she does, resulting in me feeling very bored of my appearance. Anyways, my friend will often say things like “omg you took the best photo of me!!” and I honestly have yet to feel like any photo of me is good, like, I don’t hate my appearance, I just don’t feel like any of the pictures I take are worth sharing with the world. so. This leaves me feeling. IDK honestly, I’m just pissed that I’ve become so shallow that I’m writing an entire blog about the way I look. Ew no thanks. now, I could save this as a draft and move on, but naw, I’ll post anyways.
Let’s go back to the days where people would get real dressed up to go to cocktail parties and they would always end in some political fight where someone gets stabbed or shot. Then what would’ve been small private business becomes public news as the police do an in depth investigation of everyone’s family grudges dating back to 1800s and history that is hardly worth honoring. Everyone reads about it the next day in the papers. And some small writer in NYC starts clipping out all the bits that have your name. Soon enough this small writer, big thinker, has complied hundreds of articles all about murders…and all of them…you’re in. Then they slowly put the pieces together, but it’s not until after you’re dead that they publish a book about all the unsolved murders of your lifetime and how you carried each of them out single handedly. So after your dead, enough evidence was presented that you actually were a killer, and you’re charged with murder. But them over many decades people still marvel over your stealth and they wonder….why? Why did you kill all these people? But really, you were just an alcoholic who loved to see the light leave people’s eyes.
*the title is irrelevant to the blog
I had this wonderful thought. What if we could read books by consumption. Like our tongues could read?
Just think, you grab a new book, and you jab the middle of the page with your fork. Then, slowly, twisting the sentences around the spines like spaghetti noodles. You put the page in your mouth, obviously, just the words, not the actual paper. You would taste whatever was on the page. Like you would feel all the grooves of each word.
Of course, eventually they would come out with books specifically made to taste certain ways, like food critic books, and you would taste exactly what they were reviewing, from their point of view, and by what they tasted. Or maybe children’s books would be made for every page to taste like a new fruit. It would open pallets up to new flavors from a young age, without the harm of allergies or anything getting in the way.
But the main vision is, you scoop your spoon against the page and as you lift your spoon, the words pool in sentences and you pop them right into your mouth. Good books would taste wonderful, the style of writing coherent and easy to follow, but maybe poorly written books would be like a clash of words that made no sense together, like too much description without enough action.
Over time you would literally, develop a taste in books.
Anyways, I woke up thinking about that.
One of my closest friends ever, recommended this book to me. It was midway through freshman year and she was going crazy. A year and a half later, I’m reading it, and oh my I understand why she was freaking out. There is only one was to describe her book taste, twisted.
Now I probably shouldn’t be going over the top and talk about this book now, when I’ve only just begun reading it, but, I have to. I can’t hold it in. This book is crazy.
The book is (drumroll please) The Vegetarian by Han Kang. It’s directly translated from Korean and is so beautifully written I can’t put it down. The pace of the book is incredible. You’re never bored, it skips through time and jumps to the most bizzare moments on the character’s life. This story is so grotesque and gory and never ceases to amaze me. I feel like even in writing, when there’s freedom to let your hand write any word you want, something in us stops us from crossing an invisible line. It’s like a built in system of what is and isn’t okay to write. You know? Well, this book crosses every line. It defies every system. And let me tell you, this is by far the most interesting concept I’ve ever encountered. After this, I will no longer look for books in the YA section. No no no. I feel like I’ve had an awakening of some sort. Amazing.
You know how in old-time animated movies, like Popeye The Sailor Man, where the scribble will appear above their head when either they’re mad or confused, or they just bumped their head? Well that’s how I feel. But the frames are loading way too slow so the pixels are glitching.
I cannot express how painful, yes, painful, to sit through and participate in 7 hours of high-intensive school, when you only have 6 hours of sleep? Awful. I love school, I really do. But Monday has NEVER hit me this hard.
I’ve also had this overwhelming urge to create a magnificent piece of art. Like I want it to be impressive, and I want it to have a deep meaning behind it, as well as look beautiful. All my art has been a bit bleh lately and I want to break the ice.
Today, I didn’t get I didn’t get that much done. But I felt accomplished, because I like myself today. Plus my mom said that we can go return-clothing shopping today and I’m super excited to just LEAVE the house. Fresh air baby! It does wonders. Change of scenery, all of it. It’s wonderful. plus my cat slept on my bed today and made me feel good.
I mean it when I say I felt different this morning. Like I’m a whole new person. Like eeoooowwwww.
In terms of mental health, I know how to improve. SO YAY
Also the very first thing I did this morning is write in my new journal, so I’m ready.
that’s all thanks. Here’s a bonus picture of my friend’s bird on my phone. to kick off the new year.