in search of tenderness
somehow i have the need to talk to you
i've been having toxic thoughts, i've been crying a lot, i've been stressed. the anxiety seems to come from many sources, and i wonder if i'm making it worse by drinking (caffeine) tea throughout the day. i have no choice, it seems, because to forgo my endless warm beverages would be to forgo an easy comfort. i would drink herbal tea except i can't find any here. (it's 2024, can't you order it from amazon? no, not really -- the quickest way is still weeks out, but i'm waiting) the only herbal tea i could drink though is passionflower and maybe i will just drink that all day today, to calm the nerves. to make GABA in my blood
crying feels very good to me, i like it a lot. maybe i will live a lot longer than most people, because i cry so much, and crying is so good for you
i have a lot of things i want to tell you and i think i will just tell you them one by one now
somehow it's different writing for myself. i've been writing in a journal for myself for a while now, and it's just not the same. the relationship i have to the words is different there. here i have the sense that someone can hear me, and that feels good. like i'm sending out a message in a bottle, the writing is hopeful.
//
lately i feel i have no need for friendship.
what i wish others would do for me could never be done through friendship, but it is possible through reading, writing, reflecting, singing
what need is there then for a friend? people are judgmental and they have their own lives to worry about. even therapists -- who are paid to help you and who are presumably motivated to help you if only out of professional pride or a natural human instinct for progress -- can't really help you. they just can't do it. it's not what humans can do for each other
all that i've ever wanted from friendship was never meant to come from friendship. i was always supposed to find it on my own, through my own divining rod. friendship is supposed to become accessible to me only once i have taken on the responsibilities and grown the capacities i once looked for in friendship. but once i have become my own ultimate best friendship, friendship seems like a worthless thing, a bowl of free peanuts which i can take or leave, for which i mostly have no appetite and therefore choose not to eat.
but what is shocking sometimes is how little people care. i don't think i will ever get over the shock of how indifferent and unfeeling most people are. it just doesn't seem real.
//
sometimes i have toxic thoughts about not wanting to be here anymore. sometimes i think happiness is so far away from me.
not that i'm constitutionally dispositioned from happiness, but the circumstances required for my happiness are so far away and would take a lot of courage and work to get to and it seems to me much easier to give up altogether
but then i think well, if the exit option is always there, if we're willing to go that far, then we might as well try literally anything else first, right? i should have infinite courage because my finger is so close to the escape button.
isn't that logical? that a girl with nothing to lose is in the best position to become a happy free girl?
but sometimes my mind is not logical, it's lazy. and then i think about toxic things
reasons to be here:
(1) maybe there is nowhere else but here and once this is gone that's it, maybe all those reports from the frontiers are fairytales (2) i have a pretty voice and i can sing and if nothing else, i like to listen to myself sing and wouldn't want to destroy a beautiful instrument. it would be a very sad and wasteful thing. i like the bell-like clarity and sparkling timbre of my voice, it is almost a voice outside of myself, and i can channel energy into it, and have it return to me a vibratory pleasure. it's a bit like purring, i think. (3) even crying feels good (4) i still haven't finished reading the first volume of à la recherche and i'd like to finish reading it ; (5)
i already feel much calmer
lately i'm in need of much comfort, the sort of warmth we find within ourselves, separated from the outside, when we feel that the world is a cold mechanical place
it surprised me to realize that french comforts me. maybe it's because i've made many comforting memories with french. i listened to french music alone, in my favorite room in college, high, huddled at my desk, sequestered. i whispered french with jaime, who was always very sweet to me and who, himself needing so much tenderness, had always given me so much of it instead. french is a secret language which i keep close to me, in the intimacy of solitude and with the shy french boy who made me feel love. i regret that i wasn't able to love him back in the same way, but i hold the memories he has given me like precious tremoring bunnies
//
to be honest i've got a bit of a theoretical crush on ryan, and i think he knows it, though perhaps not the extent of it. and i think he feels the same way about me, though perhaps not anymore.
and i don't feel like doing anything about the crush. i don't want to tell him. and i think i've annoyed him with the last things i've said to him, but i don't want to do anything about that either.
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i've been drinking honey lately. it's like rosin for my voice. and it is sweet and i'm in need of sweetness
and i've been controlling my diet too. i suppose it makes me feel good to be in control of my diet. my diet has always been one of those things that gave me a sense of relief whenever i grabbed ahold of it.
but i'm not starving myself, and i'm exercising so that i can keep up my muscle mass.
//
overall i guess it kind of feels like my skin has been ripped from my body and i'm raw and exposed to the world. i've been avoiding people, and this has been good for me.