Entries

7/22/2025

some feelings i've been having lately keep reminding me of this marina ambramović interview. you probably know the one. but i keep thinking back to where she says barbie wasn't her culture, that she "came from communism" and "never liked objects." i think i like objects too much and it's exhuasting. or rather, a past version of me liked objects too much, and now current me is stuck with them. being stuck at home lately has me looking around my room and thinking, god, i could really stand to get rid of some stuff.

i'm certainly guilty of the great american capitalist pastime of shopping, buying, consuming, in place of feeling my feelings, learning discipline, and sitting with the sensation of going without. i used to be much worse--during the first couple years of the pandemic, when all i felt was numb, i used it as the go-ahead to amass a frankly ridiculous amount of clothing. i had a higher paying but not very enjoyable job at the time and was still living with my family, so instead of doing the smart thing and saving money without the percieved "necessity" to do so, i spent every last extra dollar i had (and sometimes didn't have!) on new clothing, something i had finally taken an interest in after realizing my visions of my personal style.

(to make an EXTREMELY long and cumbersome story short, i have always dealt with body dysmorphia and eating disorders, and it has alienated me from my body for nearly my entire life. up until around 2021, i had no concept of style--i wore whatever made me look the smallest, or the least percievable, or was oversized and loose enough to never touch my skin. truly, i never even wanted to be conventionally thin--i just wanted my body and overall appearance to be so unremarkable, so middle-of-the-road in every direction, that no one whose eyes skimmed over me in a crowd would think about me ever again until the day they died. anyway, due to a surprsingly non-dysmorphia-related 2 year long mental downward spiral that began a year before the pandemic, anxiety made eating difficult, and i lost a significant amount of weight. my ED-addled brain of course equated this with "victory" despite it only being achieveable through sleepless nights, debilitating nausea, and overall unrelenting misery, and thus, i decided this was the body worth dressing with clothes i actually liked.)

it wasn't all bad--finding out what i actually like and what kinds of clothing actually made me feel good instead of maladaptively "safe" helped my self image and continues to help my self image. i love feeling "worthy" of adorning myself with beautiful things that capture other's attention, something that has historically been a terrifying notion to me. it's just that i was a little overzealous. it's a convenient and common excuse, isn't it? a perhaps repackaged but at its core all the same argument of "self care"--well it's self care, so i can spend money on it! i'm buying this for ME! it's like my brain was doing the work FOR corporations.

a clothing obsession wasn't even the first time--i loved toys as a kid, always had an entire bedful of stuffed animals, still do if i'm being honest. then it was music, cds, band t-shirts, merch, then as an adult, it was makeup. oh, the 2016ish beauty community big bang was equally detrimental to both my brain and wallet. i still have an entire toolbox of makeup i bought back then shoved under my counter, most of it expired no doubt. i don't use it, and yet i don't throw it away either. i'm like that with so many things--well what if i need it some day? i just know if i throw it out, i'll need it soon after! what if i NEED this thing i haven't touched in years, and have forgotten multiple times that i even own??? i don't know where this mentality comes from--i've never even encountered this worst case scenario i keep dreaming up. i never lost belongings in a traumatic way, or had to go without in any meaningful way, so what is driving this impulse?

my best guess is that i hate waste. ironically. the production and runoff of all these goods are horrendously wasteful and detrimental, so maybe i'm rationalizing it as "well, if i get my money's worth out of this, every last cent, then i've done the best i can to prevent even further waste." but what of all the plastic tubes and palettes the makeup comes in when i throw them out? and although i donate all the clothes i no longer wear, we still all know the industry itself is guilty of slave labor and environmental destruction. demand creates waste, and i sure did my part to feed that demand already.

what i'm trying and taking a very long time to say is that capitalism is exhausting. it is a sickness and a disease. and believe me, i am acutely aware that i am not its biggest victim--living in america in the imperial core has afforded me privilege beyond comprehension. but seeing that has also made it glaringly obvious that i don't NEED this much privilege, especially not if it means so, SO many have to go without. it makes big american houses, constant advertisements, and lush department and grocery stores filled to bursting thanks to the labor of those living in countries we violently exploit so harrowing to see. i know my soul-sickness holds little weight in the face of real human suffering, but i think americans could all stand to be inflicted with this soul-sickness, this capitalist fatigue, this realization that we HAVE SO MUCH THAT WE DO NOT NEED.

i'm not sure how to smoothly transition from that ramp-up so i'll just do it gracelessly. i think i'll do a little decluttering this week. i think i will keep not having tiktok or instagram or facebook or any of these constant ad feeding tubes disguised as social media platforms. i think i will keep making friends with FOMO, with not letting rage or curiousity bait get the best of me, keep protecting my time and energy from every poorly-disguised entity trying to gorge me on capitalist gluttony. i think i will keep trying to get some sunlight, create things with my own two hands, stay awake and aware and connected and curious, and increasingly anachronistic in regards to consumerist culture.

7/20/2025

my first journal entry--for when i feel like babbling a bit too much for the updates page! also serving as a blueprint for all other journal entries.

not much going on lately. i've been back on the horse in regards to working on this site because i hurt my foot and already made myself sick of drawing, so this was the next logical sedentary activity i could think of. aside from watching gossip girl. which i've also make myself sick of on and off. anyway, i trusted a step stool i shouldn't have and fell off a counter, landing with my full weight on my foot while it was bent inward. crushed my toes backwards and overextended the top of my foot + ankle, and now it's all bruised up. it's likely just a bad sprain, and after letting my girlfriend poke all around the bruised and swollen bits, se's declared in hir layman's opinion that it's probably not fractured. yippee! if only i didn't keep prolonging my suffering by giving into stir-craziness... i'm at least taking a break from the gym, but i'm on my feet a lot for my job and refuse to give up the hours on account of i really need the money... hopefully if i do end up deciding i ought to see a doctor about it, they'll take my insurance.

in lighter news, yesterday was me and my girlfriend's four year anniversary! this is the longest relationship i've ever been in, and the happiest. when you're only in your 20's, even just one year takes up more of a percentage of your whole life than you realize. i'm not very good at waxing poetic, but i feel so lucky to have hir, and to have a home with hir. how lovely a feeling to look at someone, and even when you're angry with them, or irritated with them, think to yourself, "i cannot believe how much i adore you." there's no fear, performance, restlessness, dread... just going to bed each night knowing my love is right there next to me.

anyway, i'll leave it here, as my mom just texted me letting me know she made spaghetti and expects us over at 6:15. sluuurp