November & December, 2024

to end the war on self loathing

december 31st, 2024

this has all been an experiment. a room on the internet for my many ideations, identities, fragile interpretations. i suppose its most frightening to me to forget how to be. to wake up and suddenly you are not how you thought, and it’s less like a lie you’ve told and more like you’ve been lied to. this is my desperate attempt to collect information about myself; to bring attention to my reality through expression of soul. this is mindful and creative. this is the wheel of fortune; discovery, opportunity, life and death, excitement, disappointment, greed, hope. can you think of anything greater than that?

i move forward and leave behind the void; the mask i wear that looks like me. this me is friendly and awake now, but mostly tiring.

december 30th, 2024

december 29th, 2024

december 28th, 2024

december 27th, 2024

december 26th, 2024

l’esprit de l’escalier

december 25th, 2024

christmas! everybody, it’s christmas! i have reached my whits end. i say this but i keep on living like we all do. we all sit around and look at each other and blink and tell jokes and we say that it’s such a shame, isn’t it a shame we are all getting older? so old we can understand it’s a shame, but young enough we cannot understand getting older. can you not move your body forever? just keep on drinking, drink and drink and drink and don’t look over at the children, drink and practice kindness and gratitude and be hopeful for a brighter future where you can cry in front of your family without them making you laugh, and the wars and the women and children and everything that we don’t know yet but we should, we will, we will remain hopeful for, and what will surprise us and destroy us and kill us, and we say thank you to useless rejoicing, years of in-breeding, indifference. thank you to jesus for being born on this day, for prying himself out of mary and waiting thirty years to come forward and to say, “i am here: i am ready for you to kill me” and it will be horrible but it has to be good too. to that we agree; we’ve finally broken. not yet, though. we won’t say sorry, we’ll just be happy and shrug later from the guilt of bringing life into the world and seeing it grow and die. when does it happen? it’s going to happen soon: my body will stop stretching and fold over like a leaf and it’s coming, it’s going to fucking get me today if i don’t run away and build something that’s worth my life, it’s going to fucking get me one day soon enough like it’s gotten all of you, we can all see how it rots your teeth your being your feeling, this christmas it is coming, coming up climbing up my legs and i can’t stop it from happening, a horrible assault on my body from dreaming and closing my door on a nice present; i am sorry to have been born into such a life that i cannot be sorry for, i wish i smiled more and said thank you, but i do not always know what to do with my spirit: it is halfway up the staircase frowning at me and it says, “i’m fucking coming for you”, i am waiting it out, death or life?

december 24th, 2024

is this not what i’m meant to be doing?

december 23rd, 2024

this archive has fallen behind in my list of priorities. i want to show you photographs of my processes, but don’t have the time to make the necessary changes in the code lately; it was something i should have thought about doing in france. maybe this is where it will stop? no. i don’t know. i’ve been trying to edit my instagram in secret, archiving each post quickly before anyone has seen it and then bringing it out into public so that i have more additional content before i start to build it into something real. i don’t know if this is smart; i’m not really thinking about marketing. maybe i should be? worried about universities and everything but feel too silly to tell anyone that it’s causing me stress, because they will all tell me it’s so far away and i don’t need to think about it. don’t i know that? anyhow. i’ve been trying to read. i’ve been trying to play chess. i’ve been trying to reach out to people on social media. i’ve been trying to connect with my family. everything makes me feel more and more lost. am i not where i’m meant to be? is this not what i’m meant to be doing?

december 22nd, 2024

december 21st, 2024

time away from everyone

december 20th, 2024

felt salty today. went to the beach after we swam in the ocean and had eaten breakfast and so missed my brother leaving; i watched keenly a mum and her young son sit together and noticed her finger move to point as he sat down between her legs. it felt like they were watching the tide roll in forever. there was a group of three girls who came down, too, but they went left instead of right toward me. i saw them all earlier when we were having breakfast at the breeze. i freaked them out with my aloneness at the beach i think; i was twisting my corded headphones and not doing much except looking up at the faded moon and the blueness and then back at them near the ocean. i wrote a little something while i was there, because i had the line “god in a few small desperate ways” stuck in my head and needed to get it out; it turned into many lines instead. i always end up writing about earth and god as if those are very interesting things to hear about, but write them plain and simple hoping it will be magical. i suppose it doesn’t matter when they are just things for me. anyway, it was all very peaceful on the beach and i’ll go back again today. i think i need some time away from everyone

my mum always tells me what she’s doing before she does it and says, “in case you’re wondering what i’m doing,” then disappears. does she get worried?

we are alive on the beach today! growing through time

december 19th, 2024

my brother remembers more about life than i do; we lived in a place that i cannot recall more than a moving car. i’m intrigued

we are lying all together on the beach and days are feeling sadder and longer and yes this is what growing up feels like but it also feels like you know the decay—threpelton’s playing chess; he is winning—even though you are only starting out, you know that it will only get worse from here, and that is a horrible liminal reminder of your antidote to aging reality: it does not exist. so you laugh at skin products but buy your own and hope it’s effective and you secretly feel better about your body when you take your shirt off in front of others because even though, even though all of it, you know, they know you are young and that’s it. so in the end, now, anyway, you’re actually winning. but this is not what i’m talking about. i meant to say that my family is appearing formless and grateful but completely different. life is out of order in a handful of small ways; mistakes repeat and it is never the wrong time to say, “you will forgive me for ruining us?” so you don’t, because you’re not afraid: but my god you should be. it’s all going down the drain. your toenails won’t be pink with your mum’s nail polish for ever, nor will the hills here look so glorious in their dried state, nor will you wake up every morning hopeless with mortality; oh, god! yes, i have time! but what will i do with it? and it’s always more than that, too, but you know that. you know time is also a curiously nasty thing, with no matter of words will it become worthwhile—you waste what cannot be worn down anyway, how is it possible?

december 18th, 2024

maybe the trees are just pretending to move

december 17th, 2024

i made a table today. mum and i found it at the side of the road and we carried it home in turns. once we came home, we went back out and had breakfast. i had a burger, the same as mum's and she said it was rubbish, aside from the aioli. anyway. i am writing this at the beach, using voice recording instead of typing! as i speak, i am looking out over the ocean and there is a man walking into the sea with his shorts pulled all the way up and his hands folded behind his back, squeezing. there is the silhouette of a woman and her dog walking towards me from the right and there is seaweed everywhere. it smells strongly and i can hear nothing because of the wind. the sky carries not a single cloud, and all of the tiny ripples of waves are coated in white snow. this is christmas in australia

death is compassionate, humane even

december 16th, 2024

no hardships today, only a terrible feeling of isolation after last night. i felt that irreproachable feeling that no matter what you do, where you go, death is coming and not just for you—even though that is probably what makes you cry hardest—but for everyone, and everything, including the planet. and what will it matter? because you will not be around to witness the suffering, and you cannot help it. what’s inevitable is willing to come, and the conception of us is pleasure to the universe, whatever imbalance it brings. something has been brought into motion, and nothing can be fixed. we must do our best. still, i cried. because i am selfish and easily moved by ideas about eternity. death is very compassionate to us, isn’t it? without it we all continue into the infinite, and what a horrible way not to go—death is humane, even. we must be thankful. however, i am concerned about where to go, like everyone. last night i thought of how beautiful things were becoming, and how sad i was. i lit my candles and my room was a nice orange; i was emptying my things out and putting them away. but as i told you; i was a bad daughter last night. not dutiful in the least, and i cannot still understand why. it’s something about the aloneness, well how i can’t imagine it; inconceivable. either way, i was still packing my bags to come away. a song played: the book of love by the magnetic fields. i thought i had never been sadder. i began to cry on the floor, holding something. i don’t remember what anymore. i was looking up at my chess set on the desk, my window frame and the bags. i remember asking myself, why am i packing these bags? and so i became momentarily nihilistic. it was a sad sort of sinful, and i knew that because i feel regret even now. i do not forgive myself for worrying about what will happen after death. even the most clever of people and the most trusting and hopeful still fear for a moment, before their body gives out; their brain stays alert for a moment, trying to help the body, and the consciousness leaves, and where does it go to? because we do not know it’s beginnings, we cannot know it’s end—if it is innately human, we cannot know what it is like to be other, and if so what will happen to it?

every feeling today has been accompanied by a sense of doom. like i wonder when was the last time i will see my mum licking closed an envelope?

is it weird that i always feel like such a bad daughter?

december 15th, 2024

didn’t eat dinner. well, i did. i woke up late today after last night. i went to hospital for a rash. i don’t want to talk about it. it was nothing. we called an emergency doctor and they told us to rush me in. it looked like a meningococcal rash, and the doctors all agreed that it presented very seriously, but i wasn’t sick. mum and i were there until midnight. so it was eventful, and that’s why i didn’t fall asleep until late. i have a stomach ache now, and i feel generally gross. [redacted] came over to swim in the pool, and we finished the second bad moms movie. we played two games of chess and she beat me at both of them. i am so bad at chess. when she left i felt sad that i missed out on going in the pool with my parents, and i still hadn’t eaten much all day. i talked to my mum in her bedroom but she was really too tired to speak to me and i was asking dumb questions. i feel so strange

an amazing spectacle of morning

december 14th, 2024

went to the oval today with the family and dogs. i should probably take meditating more seriously; i feel very dysfunctional. i keep on becoming worried about being disturbed whilst practicing, it was something i didn’t worry about in france. i’m going to [redacted]’s house today even though she’s gone so that i can get my book back and read her letter inside. i wonder a bit about what it says. i’ve asked if i can take her younger sibling out to coffee. not sure what i am ever hoping to discover. principal? closure? ridiculousness? and after that i am going into the botanic gardens to see some people, like [redacted] who is back from melbourne. that should be exciting! unsure about how to feel, though. everything’s not simple for me at the moment; i think that’s proof i am out of touch. why can i not decisively feel a way without diminishing it in a rather volatile way? it’s only myself i damage, but i do not think this time i am self-inflicting. it feels targeted, but i cannot blame god!

what! you don’t know lovecats?

december 13th, 2024

today i met up with someone (who i am close with and also far away from, but am mostly close to) who broke up with his boyfriend last night; i am reminded what a selfish act it is to be good and hopeful for promise of love—we were afraid together for him, i bit my lip a lot

what else can you do? filled with questions right now. writing to go to bed early. feeling sick often. you always hear me say that. i don’t ever think out loud. is this sentience? hm. ate many cherries today at the kitchen counter, maybe only slept four hours last night, plucked every one of the seeds all out of my mouth and into the grey compost bin, walked around with bare feet whilst mum said things to me, and i hmm-ed, and right-ed at her, but actually listened to my soles squeak on the old shiny planks and felt my hair all on my shoulders in rough knots. i recall his long amazement down the hallway as he slapped his hand over his laugh, and he told me that he’d been living with a pit in his stomach hours before. i asked, “what’s the cure?” he said he didn’t know. i assured him he would, but now i think i should have said, “you don’t know lovecats?!” i have said enough today

felt dirty today

december 12th, 2024

i doubt i will write much these next couple of days, not much when i am at aldinga, anyway. i have to write my cards for christmas, and buy a couple more presents tomorrow. then i should be finished, and we can stop this stupid holiday. i love christmas, but it seems it’s over for my parents. i was feeling very excited this year about it. this is rushed, because i am trying to get to bed on time tonight. i’m trying to knock myself out with melatonin and candles and no devices, but this doesn’t count, right? to all who is concerned, i am working! i am writing! god. no. i had dinner with my mum tonight. we talked about next year; she has agreed it’s not possible for me to work next year, but she’s going to chat to my dad about what i can do at home for income. that’s a shame. but i have other pursuits set up for next year, and we talked about that. i had to go into the dentist today because of a tooth i was concerned about, and it turns out it’s related to me having hay-fever. so, there you go. i read a magazine with gillian anderson on the cover in the waiting room before with my brother. he tutored me in maths after, for two hours; i nearly cried. i’ve been okay today. not feeling that bothered, but forgot to eat lunch and had to substitute for many snacks. it will all be okay if only i could sleep

ah, ça pique bien

december 11th, 2024

sitting in dad’s grey chair (which is really rory’s now, because he never has time to sit in it, and when he does, he sits in the other living room) and writing this because i have exhausted all of my other hobbies (taking care of my body, spending money, watching my dogs and the pool water steam off the concrete outside), and holidays is unfortunately starting to sting (ça pique!) despite all of my gratitude and frequent reminders of how good life seems to be now. yes, i do not see the problem. well, of course it is me! you are thinking that in your head now, imagining that i am ignoring something crucial, but no. i am just bored. bored and vain, which is not a great way to be. perhaps i will go in the pool; no, no, i have done my hair and makeup and won’t be able to do anything except lazily half-submerge, and it’s too cold anyway. or else i compare my lives too much before and after, like i did in before which was also during, and i become pretty fed-up by situations, because i am constantly tidying them up. that’s life anyway, tidying up for yourself, pain for pleasure is not circumventive, but it’s consistent—washing your porcelain plates so you can eat off porcelain plates, doing it over again. these nice plates you bought, why would you note use them? i do see why america is depressive with their paper plates—you learn nothing, and you spend the same time wondering why your lives are so disposable and insular instead of just fucking scrubbing your plates

today is the first day where i’ve thought i might really like for it to be tomorrow instead, which is a shame. i know it’s worthless to admit to that; instead i could make today an excellent day, but i feel it’s pointless in that way too. is this recurring or strange? i’m not sure. i have got to do something real today

getting on with life in a way

december 10th, 2024

i have made it this far and not once googled ‘guide to wrapping round christmas presents’, which shows growth from perfectionism or an unfortunate descent into lack of care. i am feeling particularly normal today—i woke up and watched the french news channel. i wrote in my journal in front of the television after my brother came home from bali. we all said hello to him in the hallway, and he disappeared into his room to crash out. i saw him when the door was cracked open; he still had his converses on. then i decided i’d swim in the pool. i put on the speedo bathers i wore when i was still doing competitive swimming in year 7 and 8; i look thin now and much better in them, but they felt tight around my chest and hips. it is interesting, because i do not think i have grown or shrunk in those areas. anyway, it felt nice to wear. i felt noble for being able to put them on and feel pleased. i wished someone had seen me, so i could say to them — look! look! they still fit — but then again, i am grateful nobody did see me. the swim was nice; i lapped the pool and swam in all sorts of ways. some of my thoughts make me so sick that they are repetitive, i often think of lines to books in my heads or theories i am developing and i do not want to write them down. i think they are bad, because i have thought of them so often as a default; my mind draws back into those places and it tires me. whenever it came up, i dunked myself under water

then i showered and washed my hair well. i thought of straightening it like i do every week but never end up doing because it’s never actually as exciting as i imagine it will be. mum sent me out on a mission after i was ready to buy us both coffees. i emptied my trash and then i walked up the road with a bag of my clothes that dragged on the ground of not carried drooping over my left shoulder. i delivered it to the vinnies next door to the cafe with the good oat milk. i ordered mum a medium flat white with oat milk, and myself a medium chai latte with oat milk. this is what i’ve been drinking normally since coming home—there is bad oat milk everywhere except for this place. i brought it home and said hi to the cleaners. they come to our house every week and are kind, and they have seen me grow up over the last decade. i do not think they really remember me, though. they have always looked the same to me, never any older or younger. like my parents, too. i cannot ever remember mum with blonde hair. anyway. i’ve been reading my book and wrapping christmas presents, i sent [redacted] some videos on snapchat too, as well as organizing what i need to buy. i think i’ve worked it all out now. i will be broke by january. i also made theo food and we watched the beginning of the fourth fast & furious film. i do not know why he is watching them. do you see what i mean when i tell you that i feel normal today? i am doing such regular things, not getting it together per say but certainly getting on with life in a way

december 9th, 2024

the cogs in the mind, watching you tick

december 8th, 2024

i am coming to terms with the fact i am not a truly mean and actively conniving person. it is easy to feel that way when i lie often to others about my strategies to gain their affections. but i am okay more and more to know honestly it does not undo me when i convince friends, please, please, to stop me if i ask something they are uncomfortable with. even though i know i never would, for i am too considerate and watchful, and there is no reason to say this at all. it’s prideful, which is what makes me feel sick after. am i doing it out of real consideration at all? but yes, i think. today i think so. and i know with [redacted] i ask her things because it is her mind i have always secretly wished to know devoutly; it is with real satisfaction and nothing but curiosity that i watch the cogs in her brain work through the words i pose as threat, and as creative nourishment for both of us

freshness, busiest day

december 7th, 2024

we ran this morning. i did not run well, but dad stayed with me the whole time. i walked for a while. we ran to the ending, anyway. maybe next time i will be better. but afterward we swam in the ocean, and the world felt kind to me again. i won’t waste our time trying to explain to you this feeling of easiness, because i hope you realize it rarely exists; it is a rush of coldness which turns you back to some primal fixation with where you are. those moments are rare, and they tell a story about you without your participation. it is good to feel unbroken for a small moment. we drank coffees with bad oat milk at the café above the dunes. then came home, i dressed and replied to people on my phone. i should not use the internet, i think. i wrote in my journal and put makeup on. we [my parents and i] went out to breakfast in the town and then went op-shopping. i bought nothing but had a good time anyway. at home, i read most of my book before i went back to the beach, thinking i’d swim, but i just read more. it was not sunny, and the wind was sharp. my feet did get burned, though. i made a voice recording on my phone to talk about everything. a mum and her two boys were watching me as they moved past; i realized i didn’t care that they knew i had nobody on the phone. the sun came out and i walked home, ate an avocado toast and mum and i piled into the car with no dogs. on the way, we listened to a new york times podcast on the substance. mum is out now, at a group gathering with her friends. she’s not going to be home until late, so i’ve been writing. and writing. and writing. my book, mostly. am i allowed to call it that?

hopeful to be great at something

december 6th, 2024

arrived at aldinga—going out for dinner once dad arrives. writing is hard and also the easiest thing in the world. art is how i imagine pregnancy. sex is the half-formed idea, the love affair you have before you give yourself over to one idea about how love means to be, to find you are with child is to accept you are hopeless for trying and this is the paradoxical fun of it, before bearing the child and giving life to the art you nurture, you must secretly loathe all the things about being changed by desire—you will always be a mother after your delivery, you will forget yourself in caring and crying and constant giving without anything in return except theoretical joy—it’s all future-focused. nobody loves the nights awake. everybody lies about it. the indulging mothers say, “it is hard at first. you’ll learn the ropes. there’s nothing like being a mother,” and this tides you over because it’s true, but it never really applies. because there’s always disgust, there’s always uneasiness, there’s always lying to yourself; it is only amplified now by what you’ve chosen or rather not chosen to become. you want the child, you want to see what you’ve created experience the world, and maybe for others to delight too. but that is never the point. they tell you it can be, but it’s only ever a moment. i don’t know. i’ve been thinking about art lately and i am sentimental about what i don’t have; i’m furious about it because i’m envious of glory and my own youth, and i am also happy to be alone and do what i can to experience myself on my own. purpose is terrifying because it does not exist anymore; it’s your own responsibility to assign your role within yourself. i do not want to become soulless and aching but i am also afraid of so much, i worry if i will do anything in my life that is truly great and fulfilling a need. i deep-cleaned my bathroom this morning

deciding to be honest today

december 5th, 2024

i know it is quite the statement, but i feel time slipping away from me and i cannot keep doing nothing about it. i have to be honest with you that i am not sure about anything. i do not know why it’s only a recent plague that’s befallen me; thinking that sensuality of existence does not matter. i am on the second day of my period and i slept well last night and now my face looks totally different. my ass has a tiny discolored mark on it. my heels are always blistered and my mum makes constant note of it. my eyes look small and slanted. my breasts are too big for my body. when i do not know what to say, i always come back to telling you about my figure. i tell you what hurts and i tell you to press the surface, i rip off the tag and ask you which way to put my shirt on. there’s nothing interesting about why i am a liar. the worst part is that i cannot tell you what i’ve lied about; i know it would bore you to tears of confusion. you will say, but why would i care? i do not even know you! i do not think i am lying for you. and the truth is that some things i simply can’t remember anymore, because the lie is more important. the truth is that to understand how to make people enjoy you, you must be a comfortable liar to a degree; not because you deceive but because you prepare for the worst. i love that i have people who are willing to give to me. it used to be a thing i cried about, but now i am mostly happy. we do exactly the same as each other; bring out what is needed. it is like when you speak with another person, and somebody walks up behind them who you want to impress so you say something completely loudly gauche, you make yourself big and beautiful and shiny, and you hope they are listening to your conversation. but you must control it for it to work and be good; you cannot be big anymore. you must be humble. that is all it is. trying to find shininess. i know that certain people need to see certain things, that are true but are at the height of glory just for them: sometimes my cleverness, maybe my introversion, or my willingness, my creativity, my adulthood and responsibility — it is a game of knowing what to show to whom. others prefer that you give them a weak point. show your belly, is what these people are thinking. this is where sensitivity shines; it is allowed to kill all of your strengths for just a moment, to tone down while the other person becomes used to you. to be sensitive to the world, no matter how idiotic. i am not sure i mean it when i tell you i believe in certain powers or great things, because i do not always believe reason prevails, or has to. sometimes i say things to reassure myself, but really it sounds as though i am convincing you of something false. if you are worried about what to believe of the things i say, know i am even more worried

let the sky darken with many pinks a-fold

december 4th, 2024

what about balance is worth it? being with others. aloneness. conversation. the phone ringing. buying someone’s old books. reading street signs out loud. anger. changing lampshades. drinking with family. smoking alone, wondering if it is working. crying in front of someone because you are happy. having worry for tomorrow, eager agitation. anticipation. cold hands that warm. certain birds you listen to when the window is open. these are all things that are ultimately good, i guess. and that happen so rarely but so often at the same time they are no longer special or officially sacred. they are, though. i know that they are more than i don’t, but i still am no happier than for a fleeting second. i cannot stop breathing with my mouth open; i have caught a cold since coming home. and i worry for the film i am taking my mum to see. i have told her it is a horror movie — i am worried i have mislead both of us! so much to do today still. we have already decorated for christmas and i have already gone to school to see [redacted]. i wonder, do i love waking up? do i love these long days or does it tire me too much? i know i tell you nothing anymore, but i have nothing to say; life is moving very fast ever since i came home and there is no time to explain why it’s all meaningful, and because there is no explanation. it is always easier to lie to yourself, anyway. it feels exciting sometimes, mostly during the day, but at night i become unbelievably convinced that my life is a waste. i do not know why. i have been doing superficial things lately. but again, no, not really. i have been seeing people who all pretend they want me to talk about myself. it feels exciting at first but then tiring. i distract them by posing them a few quick and thrilling questions, but after a moment they remember they should ask about me and all is forgotten again. i like this but don’t know what to do with myself. i cannot bring myself to study or be an intellect

remember i am loved and ready

december 3rd, 2024

it’s nearing the end of the year! not really, but it feels like it’s all going away and i need to hoard and get ready for a rebirth. i have been bad at writing lately. you probably have noticed. i think i am not inclined to it right now. maybe tomorrow i will be overcome with urges. it’s not so bad. i do write in journals, but it’s never on purpose or because i truly seem to want to; it happens with automation. is this such a bad thing? it is the only thing i can stomach, so it must not be so bad. sometimes i worry that i don’t say anything meaningful when i write, and that it’s only just words. but i hope someone will understand the lesser things as more than nothing, because i do care about all of them. for such a long time i worried so much about coming and going, but now i’m back and i live with the same set of circumstances, the same clouds, the same family members. it is not so bad at all, but it is unimaginable intolerance. i get angry more than i want to because the world has not done anything to me. i ask myself questions that are not real, and say, will the world be kind or cruel to me today? when really it is more absent than loving or hateful. that makes it easy to be blue from aloneness. there is always noise outside, and my window is always open, but i rarely hear things if i am not trying

how much is it useless?

december 2nd, 2024

the sun burned my legs today. i felt it burning but i did not put on sunscreen. i only did my chest and face because i am afraid of old skin on those areas. i was curious to see if i’d go red. of course, i did. i am such a stupid, senseless girl sometimes. last night we ate cherries on the kitchen counter because. and this morning i shoved my meds into your mouth because they are yours too. and then we took the tram. i am more beautiful than i was two years ago when we did this. and you are too. it was good. we were cool, and i felt a little dirty and restless but didn’t tell you. you did know, though. you said i handle big things well most of the time, but other times i really don’t. i knew what you meant in the moment but now i’m just curious and want to bite your hand off. i tried to do this last night, but i just fell asleep instead. it’s all such a dream. such a nice day and bad dreams and i was so relieved that you were in my bed. i don’t even notice when i tell you things i thought i didn’t ever want to say

there is time left in silent conversation

december 1st, 2024

it’s the first of the last month and i am on the bus home, to a black dress and strappy heels. there are cherries under my arm and i’ve been in the sun today. i saw her in the city! as we walked. i shouted and called and got real worried. it’s always such a delightful day, but never that good. we ate and the grass nipped. i sat on my silk from when we went away and i used my money to buy something special. i don’t have money anymore, but i do have silk. the ants ate my dip and we talked about love and art and what we want to do after school: make love and do art. us, not the ants. there was some silence and i never know if it’s happy silence or not. it’s just silence. a chill that you force onto your body, but was there for however long; you could do it any time and the fact it feels nice is far more of a but than anything additional. you left and it was awkward to grab you and hold you there. i said thank you. the bus came. here i am. there’s time left

death reversed taro card reading

november 30th, 2024

son of a preacher man is playing. the month is ending. i am home, and why is everything not all right? why have i not been reached? or taught? i have written a lot today. i showered and got ready, and mum and i walked the dogs down to a café. i had a juice. i felt upset after she said something to me—i don’t want to say what, i am too embarrassed—and i wanted to go home immediately after that. we got dog food on the way home at the butcher’s. i was in an ugly mood, so i didn’t say much. i didn’t know what to do to bring myself out of the state, so i sat down on my floor with a candle and wrote in my journal. i smoked on the bed. it’s new moon. i pulled a card from the taro deck; death in reverse. the card in reverse is normally more of a psychological warning than a physical one. a mental obstacle; myself in front of another self, saying “don’t go there, we don’t like it there”. in my experience, anyway. it’s avoidance of transformation. if life in reverse is gradual decay, the finite; death in reverse is growth, the eternity which beckons. this can be a good thing, depending on your leanings. i do not want to be foreseeably unbalanced because of fear, so my responsibility today has been to stay open to noise. i did a smudging ritual with sage and then did a couple of small things; [redacted]’s birthday presents card-writing and gift wrapping, cleaning up my areas, doing my makeup and hair. then i went to the dentist. my dentist new my dad from the gym. she was nice, and i asked her what she thought about while she cleaned teeth. she told me she often was very focused on the satisfaction of cleaning, but that she sometimes thought about what she was eating for lunch. then i came home for a half hour while we waited for my brother to come home. i got dressed and called my grandma to tell her i was safe and alive after exchange. then we all went to the markets together. we ate lunch. i had a bagel. then we bought fruit and vegetable, and wandered around the japanese store. mum and i went into target and bought christmas junk. we just got home a half hour ago; i finished writing in my journal. i have a headache from how tired i am, and how overstimulated. i do not feel very interested in the usual things. i do not know a solution yet

november 29th, 2024

god only knows how much i love you

november 28th, 2024

an[other] entirely sleepless and anxious night; i don’t know what is keeping me so much from sleeping. two nights, i have laid my head down to think, it all feels all right now. it might be okay now. i will open my eyes one more time to make sure i am really here, and then i will crumble into myself and rest completely, not feeling a thing. and then suddenly i am struck down by lust for fear, but it is not only as simple as the things i want to do and haven’t done and feel compelled to write down very suddenly, overcome with knowledge about self and optimism and life; it’s followed by jet lag induced insomnia. today i have experienced an almost hallucination-like purple swirl of a sensation behind both eyelids, more prominently when open. i play the game ‘whac-a-mole’ but i am trying to beat the moles—my very minor and almost funny hallucinations—by blinking, not whacking. this morning i relished in my brief morning euphoria - the always very enticing dopamine boost that sleep deprivation is courteous enough to leave with you. it lasted for longer, because i am home and loved and feel very good without my training wheels on concepts of gratitude. for example, i drank hot drinks in the bed with mum, showered and washed myself off completely, took off dead skin from my chest and neck. i am considering a time away from the pill. i believe my two side effects most obvious is the excessive dead skin and enlarged breasts, both of which i can live with if by consequence of clear skin and regulated hormones. but perhaps i should try it sometime, even if only for a month. i ate a wrap with hummus on it, which i always used to eat when i was at home. i drank a glass of water and took my medications. i unloaded the dishwasher after i changed into my summer robe. then i felt very inspired to write down the list of things i need to get done during summer. applying to alliance française appears impossible online, so mum and i need to find a time to go in together and meet with someone who can organize the entire thing for us. it’s too complicated on the computer. it will be something we forget about until january — but maybe not now that it is on my list! so i sat and drank my water whilst writing, and then finished my journal entry which i started very early in the morning, when i was tired and upset about not sleeping all night. i meditated, but had to pause halfway through due to barking at the door. mum came home from pilates, she brought me a juice (pineapple and orange) and we took both dogs out after i changed. i wore my brown pleated skirt, which needs to be ironed as mum pointed out, my white shirt-bra poking out beneath mum’s skinny blue camisole, her old grey cardigan with no buttons except for at the sleeves, plus my docs and ruffle socks. we walked the dogs and i felt sluggish at times, but i love to walk now. i leave my phone at home with full desire and little interest in returning to check on it. i love that mum and i always see people, and i always know how to behave depending on which person it is. today was [redacted], the nice greek woman up the road who likes her grandchildren and is fond of rory, but who rory is rather skittish of. i notice how my appreciation for those with english as their second language has rapidly heightened. i think i will remember [redacted]’s parents in the kitchen nodding, telling me, “we understand. but don’t worry. we think after about ten years, it begins to feel much easier.” and perhaps i never had thought of [redacted]’s parents as anything but fluent, or highly proficient. now i seem to notice it everywhere. at the nail salon, on the street, in school group-chats. i do not have pity, i simply have a much more profound and incredibly sentiment of respect for them. after we came home, i lay down and tried to nap. i couldn’t, so instead i edited my youtube video — it took me some time, and i should have done it another day. i am too sleep-deprived. but i was so pissed off by the fact of overtiredness that i had to pursue something that was not a white rabbit. i lay in the dark after anyway, and only recently got up to ice my face and go in the pool to wake myself up. i would really like to feel half-awake before [redacted] comes over in an hour or so. it is a pity that i will be so deflated. hopefully she will let me lay on her and listen to her

i wish my dad were at home and i wish we loved each other less so it would be easier to cope. i am in awe of him in an indescribable, incapable way, and to tell you that removes the element of disbelief - you do not know anything but belief, it is all word of mouth, so what do you believe? i am only admitting that i wish we were closer in a more constant way. i am constantly at physical disposition to my mum, waiting to crawl into bed with her or smile and please her and to let her know i am still young and need her. this is what i want from my mum; i want her to see inside of me and want more; to not throw up and to let it all be there, and i want her to tell me when she does it. i want her to tell me about me, how she loves me and sees me and what she dreams about honestly still. i want her to dream bigger than me, so big that she cannot contain it anymore. i know it may be an awful thing to wish on someone, but i am frightened. i know i have more to learn from her, but what can i do when she is not willing to bring it forward to me with total vulnerability and lightness? she is not dull or amused, so i find it more-so difficult to imagine that she lacks enough judgement to pass off my begging and claims for love as normal, freakish, insolent, or even cruel toward her. i imagine she simply does not know what to do with me sometimes. she is cursed too, to never know what to do with her arms. but from my dad, i would like cleanness and goodness. i try to be honest around him because i do not want to skew his opinions of me; i tell him bad things when filtered and always the good things. but he cannot always listen. i cannot fathom how busy he is, and how he manages. i respect the occasional real distance between us for it allows time apart to regroup, and when we come back for our infrequent groundbreaking encounters, it is always the most vibrant and cool memory. perhaps i feel his imbalances too strongly

rinse your hands off, play with your food

november 27th, 2024

it is my first real day home, and i have been nervous to write. it’s been very good. nobody has disturbed me. i lived as a real girl again. i ate in my spots and cleaned up after myself. this morning i went over a couple of blocks to [redacted]’s house to wish her a happy birthday. i had nothing to bring her but i thought we could see each other. it was nice and i could tell she wanted to listen to me. if i am being very honest, though, maybe too much honest, i find her story-telling unexciting and she does not know where to begin or end; she consists of much plot but no intrigue. why must i care about the love affair between these two girls at school who i am so rather unintoxicated with in general, and find them both as much as a bore as the other? [redacted] will not give you a reason to care; i think this is a problem. she does not know that all the best language is poetry; a jumble of phrasing and unreasonable self-imposed assumption and strings of synonyms of the very same word, all at the pleasure of creating sound and feeling. [redacted] has sound, but no feeling. perhaps this is really the problem with a lot of people, except they are much more uninspiring people than [redacted]. i walked to the vietnamese coffee shop across the road because it was raining. i ordered a hot chocolate and mum drove me home ten minutes later. i created my cv for the flower bar in two hours, and i feel very happy with it. i ate lunch outside; five strawberries, a little apple, and two pieces of raisin toast. mum and i went to officeworks shortly after, and i bought things for school even though we still have two months to shop for that. i unpacked two of my three bags at home, and then we walked the dogs together. then went to dinner at the nepalise restaurant very near [redacted]’s house. i had a glass of tempranillo, and mum had the grenache. we talked about university and conspiracies and exchange and some other things that were important at the time. i’m home now, and drunk. i have writing to do that will hopefully entertain me until my eyes begin to weigh from something other than a light tipsy buzz, hopefully tiredness

cancelled flight in the melting pot

november 26th, 2024

my flight was cancelled last night; the final flight home from melbourne to adelaide. i was waiting around in the gate, having just made it through the horrible virgin blue baggage drop, and security. i called my mum to tell her my flight had been delayed, but then saw a notification saying the flight was now cancelled due to a weather concern. i lost it, and cried and cried. i called mum again and told her she needed to call [redacted] and ask if they could pick me up and take me home for the night. i was freaking out. i got my big suitcase from baggage claim and sat downstairs on the tiles while i waited to be rescued. i gave [redacted] a big hug when i saw him, and he brought my things to the car. we drove home. he said funny jokes. i showered and he made me pasta. i slept in [redacted]’s clothes on their comfy couch like i watched [redacted] do in february. i slept for eleven hours. i love their family. i love their lifestyle. i enjoyed being their last night and this morning, but i am excited now to go home. very excited. i want good things to happen. i am on the plane home now. today [redacted] and i sat on the sofa and drank coffee whilst i told her about my trip. i was very excited to do so. i ate a bagel and fruit for breakfast, then got ready in the bathroom. [redacted] showed me a place to get my nails done. i got dark red shellac on them, and they’re perfect, even though the ladies pulled off a lot of my skin around my cuticles. one of them is at a risk of being infected. that’s besides the point. i am safe now and i’ve finished my journal and i am going home

travelling alone conscious list of real fears

november 25th, 2024

our flight’s landing is delayed and i’m getting a little nervous now. a couple minutes ago we shot up into the air very unexpectedly, and i am not sure why. the pilot said something to us before, but the intercom was all crackly. i have been drinking green tea because i am worried of anything upsetting my stomach. my stomach is upset, though. once we get through airport security in abu dhabi it should all be okay, get on our second flight. the long one. i will sleep on that one. i won’t read; i will just go straight to sleep. my feet hurt, but my shoes are off. i have so much to do, so many fates to expel. my mind is playing and eating itself

point of definitive return, home-bound

november 24th, 2024

well, wow, i have imagined this moment for so long — the plane has just taken off; i listened to my take-off song and am watching the wedding singer. i said goodbye to my host family last night and caught the train in the evening where i met [redacted]. we met our coordinator, a very old man, after we got off our train, and he ushered us through the airport and to a small bus for special hotel transport. he helped me with my smaller suitcase. we stayed at a shitty hotel where i had to use my phone to sign us in, because our organisation didn’t get us pre-planned accommodation. [redacted] and i decided to order kfc to the room, because we both hadn’t eaten dinner, although i’d eaten a small cheddar and ham sandwich and a hot chocolate at the train station. i wore pyjamas downstairs to the lobby whilst we waited for our uber driver to arrive. i ordered a chicken burger and fries, and drank a “7up mojito”, which i’ve never had before. it was all delicious. we ate on the top bunk (which i slept on, with [redacted] on the bottom next to another twin bed with all our luggag) and we half-heartedly watched a german movie with french subtitles: it was old and about a young german woman who was falling in love with a french man during the war. she wrote him letters in french. then we turned out the lights and tried to fall asleep. we slept badly, because the hotel was not good and people were coming in and out; doors slamming and chairs clattering and walls banging

this morning we went downstairs and ate our breakfast; a pain au chocolat and cappuccino and a glass of apple juice. i got changed, took my meds, and re-packed all my bags. we finally left and headed to the airport in a similar van, this time with more people. i did mindfulness on the way and tried to prepare for the airport. we got checked in and put our baggage through, after [redacted] had a small complication with her’s being overweight, and then we went through customs. i found out that my passport wasn’t stamped on the way here, but luckily i kept my old passports for evidence of arrival, and the policewoman let me through after a couple of minutes. we got through security and waited at the gate. [redacted] bought us both juices whilst i waited at the gate with all of our things. i called my parents and finally we boarded. now, finally, i’m on the plane

saturday ; i am overnight in the city of love

november 23rd, 2024

i am sitting on my bed for the last time! day is like magical infinity and a chest of tight nervous energy; distraction and emotion and not knowing where or what to do, being happy and golden whilst also wasting away. like playing minecraft before road-trips with my brother when i was eight. half my lifetime ago! what will happen now? i am growing older and more wise and beautiful and even rotten, as things tend toward being — and this is not the end of living, and oh! i just i can’t believe it. i woke up early this morning even though i went to bed late, because i could not fall back asleep when i remembered i am going home. i have many fears: my suitcase will be overweight, it will need to be checked back through customs after i change airlines, that i will forget my other suitcase in the overhead luggage, that i will lose something important like my passport or phone, that the flights will be delayed, that i won’t fall asleep on the long flight, that travelling will be harder than on the way here because it will just be me and [redacted]. but i know that i can handle it. i think it’s hard to know that it will work out while i’m here, because i must dwell; i have no other opportunities to reprise! i do not want to be on my phone, i have already written, and all my things are packed away, so truly i have nothing to do except think. i am wondering what food i will eat when i fly. i am worried the plane will crash; i know i have to not be worried about that, but i cannot help myself. i must plan that it all goes well, and that i look after myself between airborne breaks, that i go from airport bathroom to next gate, to wash my face and smell good and drink water and braid my hair and sleep with a face-mask, to sleep and wake and take panadol. things i didn’t do last time in anticipation of dread, i will do this time out of bursting rapture. when i woke up this morning, i thought about something that used to bother me a lot. it is a memory from last year in july and it is one of my worst memories of being cruel to someone i love and being rewarded by them for it; i did something i have never confessed to in written or spoken word, and doubt i ever will. as i thought of it this morning, i realized i had forgiven myself for this too. i realized this because it suddenly was not worth the tossing and turning, and life was so much bigger than old cruelty

i am telling you this because i want you to remember how it is to come home. it sounds like that song “mykonos” by fleet foxes. it feels like a suspicion that the air is watching me and is going frozen still when i stare back with a cocked head; it sounds like the tapping that comes from the roof each time i remember it’s there, and i breathe. it is like the kids asking me if they can shut my door because they don’t want my ears to hurt whilst they play outside; it sounds like them stomping back and forth through the thin hallway outside my bedroom. my bedroom, it feels like. it looks like the house across the street with a circle window that turns into a golden full moon when i look out at night, and is a reminder of the dead flies trapped in their decaying corpses between my window panel and the screen they climbed through to save each other when it was warm enough. it feels like it’s always going to be this way, and that inevitability is going to eat me up for it’s dinner

we go to silly length to avoid experiencing life

november 22nd, 2024

it is the last friday of my life here, and the last day of school—the last day for many friendships cultivated here, and it is snowing. mother is striking down on nature, and isn’t it delightful? i am hesitant writing now, at risk of losing my time gazing out the window, but i must. i must tell you i’ve forgiven myself of the guilt which eats away at me for believing too big in the worst of words and ways has decided to stay in the house, for it is too afraid of the snowfall. for too long i have thought my vanity a sinful good; i see it now for what it was taught to be in order to save me from myself. the unceasing desire to be beautiful prevents me from doing horrible things to myself. today i will go to school and kiss the critters on their cheeks, remember what exists everywhere; love and eternity

only sleepless is day so hardly dreamlike

november 21st, 2024

the bus driver played christmas music this morning. i slept not at all last night and my alarm failed to wake me up, so i got ready in twenty minutes and meditated on the bus. i sat with my knees tight to my chest the whole ride to school. yesterday was an achievement, as has every day in a way whilst i’ve been here. i hope i do not forget it all. i am very good at being alive now in a way i never used to be: i accept and learn and leave and come home and teach and burst and cry and listen. i payed attention in history and took very studious notes about the document we were analysing. i scribbled notes about home and hopes in my last science class ever. i will miss these two blonde teachers in different ways. at lunch, i spoke and spoke. i seem to only be able to speak french when i am sleepless or drugged. perhaps i just do not care as much; my anal retentiveness is not so so on those days, like today. i love to be happy. i love to be sad. i’m growing to cherish happiness though in a way i have only ever valued sadness for: protection and comfort. i have three hours left of class today: english and french. i plan to write. i always plan to. i feel i will write, though, today until my little finger goes yellow and blue from bruise and ink. i’m always so excited about the bus; today i am especially enthused. how i cannot wait to kick my heels by the hot radiator and wish away my whims for a moment of silence! i was so overcome on the bus this morning that i almost began to cry. i am always catching myself in that quiet corner with my fist in my mouth, and it’s been lovely, but it’ll be over tomorrow. it will be over tomorrow

has life really kicked me in the balls?

november 20th, 2024

i took a walk today in the fields behind the house and the sky was all clear and blue. the sun was out. the moon was wavering and they were on opposite sides of each other. i sat down in the grass for a moment and it was blistering cold. i thought i might cry but i didn’t. i always find something new to worry about, or it finds and worries me. and i always think if that one moment had been avoided, like last night, i would be much happier right now. i felt light as a bird this morning. i showered and soaked and got so clean, and then i worked through frustration and scribbled out my pains onto two blue book pages in the sun-soaked kitchen. i looked for the dog in the back-door window but remembered she is dead. i felt depressed when i lay back down upstairs in my brown blanket with holes. so perhaps i should just never lay down. i am so worried about being alone forever, and distancing myself from good people because it’s too hard to be around good things. it is like the walk in the field. everything is evil and of some evil is born good; of all good there is evil. we do not all accept those terms for what they are. some people find easier names for them as nature and corruption. it is always up in the air for me; am i a pleasant person or am i plain and unthinkably cold? often i do things to aggravate people to get a reaction out of them. i am sorry for admitting that. i feel bad afterward, because i see they do not know why i did it and i do not know either

i remember self-awareness spawning at my eleven-year-old heels by how every bad moment was the worst moment of my life, and how i would remind myself that i’d thought that the last time, but then i was helpless to it. even that reminder made the moment worse than the other. i could not save myself by remembering i had lived through all bad moments, because eventually every moment was a bad one. i dug myself deeper and deeper, and i am still down there somewhere, digging horizontally now, hoping i’ll reach cliff-side or something. i know this is not the worst moment of my life, and i know there are many more to come. i know perhaps life on earth is one very long bad moment stretching out into infinity. but i am disquiet to it. i am impartial to the lost noise, even when i know it surely exists. i accept what this is. i try to move on. i try to make change happen in footsteps to-and-from the bathroom to the kitchen to the bedroom to the bus-stop, but all i feel is a little worn and hungry for god

tuesday’s liar ; promise of a snow-day

november 19th, 2024

it’s going to snow here! it’s predicted for thursday and friday, but still up in air. today’s tuesday, if you didn’t read the title. yesterday i stood waiting for the bus for half an hour, fighting the cold, slightly miserable and elated after sport, my shoes completely soaked-in and i thought i’d come home with trench foot. it was a nice yellow tree that i stood under, and there was a long worm i saw in the soil. back to the point; i’m trying to get prepared for the snow, despite the fact i have no form of clothing-protection against that kind of weather. two thermal layers, a jumper and a jacket will have to do, leggings and jeans, socks and leg warmers and boots. i’m excited, anyway. i’ve never seen snow before, not since i was five and held an icicle in my bare palm after forgetting i’d taken my glove off, and i cried so bad we couldn’t make a snowman. i ate his nose in the car. it really is the coldest i’ve been

you’ll remember this from last time, but i am terrified of the plane crashing. i am doing everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen, but i am afraid of jinxing it. i had a horrible dream last night about turning into a monster because of a sticker under someone’s bed that i couldn’t name, and i tricked someone. it’s more likely i will arrive home safely, but i just won’t believe it until i’m home. maybe i won’t, anyway. believe it, i mean. i am scared of waking up on the plane to find i am falling like one of my dreams lately. it’s too hard to accept that i’ve been pining for this long, and that i regret nothing. i will be the same in loathing ultimatum; my best friend is going to order the same food and she’ll get older first and i’ll always be the second to grow up and say my bit. i get myself choked up. have i wasted the year writing to you? hoping you’ll be there? it’s nearly the end of the year. she’s gone now, so it’s just us. do i even tell you anything worth hearing here? i feel sorry about that, but won’t say it. it’s worth nothing to be hungry like this for you, but i starve and wrinkle under the dryad’s apple tree i once had my sights set on

i will miss everywhere, the tiny morning fires

november 18th, 2024

this is my final monday, and my last day ceasing to avoid god. next week, i will not be so restless. next week, i will be getting ready to lay my head down on my own pillow in my own room, after kissing my family goodnight. the world moves by very fast on this bus. faster in the mornings with my bubbly music and jittery aliveness, deeply and far slower in the evenings with our tired lugging bodies and my centuries-old classic audiobooks playing in my ear. in the morning, i make the most by watching the villages burst awake like tiny fires everywhere. all orange and glowing red. all of them like bonfire for the first time. i hear nothing from nobody at this time of morning, just a couple of posts sent to me from mindless scrolling on the other side of earth, and their afternoon grows into a lighter, fuller night; i pretend i am better for it but really i am always such a bitter girl. how is it that you do not love me with all of time wrapped up in a nice bow? it can’t be, though, so i am not to do anything about it. i am to listen faster and deeper to my music and wish the earth would turn and burn and spin around in it’s entirety; heels blistering at my ball-gown holding me up like a thread, like a little lion cub puckering its lip on pride rock

we are supposed to see a film at school today, before sport. i cannot remember if it is beetle juice, beetle juice again; but i sort of hope so. i might like to see a movie i’ve already seen today. it’s for english class, so the movie is in its original non-dubbed version

my last sunday in the middle of nowhere

november 17th, 2024

i realized just now that next sunday, i will be on the plane home. this is my last sunday in this house, in this room. in a week from now, i will no longer be in this house. probably, i won’t ever be again. hm. everyone is still shaken up from the dog dying. i am more shaken up from the stress, and have been eating and eating. i’ve called vala twice in a row, yesterday and today. we will call again before i leave, probably. and i have decided that i am going to wash my hair on wednesday next week, so i don’t need to wash it on saturday when i’m leaving. i have no idea how i’m going to get all of my clothes into my suitcases, but i have got to do it somehow; there’s no way i can take another suitcase with me to the airport. it seems like the last four days have made all the difference to the time, and it seems i have none left now. six days is probably nothing. what can happen in six days? in six days, i will need to arrange buying a phone charger and taking a day off. i will need to go to my last day of sports in that horrible little gym tomorrow. things like that can happen in six days. a lot of things. anything, actually. you get the point; i feel strange. i posted my youtube video today from weeks ago, when i was still on holidays here. i figured i will record my last week here, too, because it will make it all go much faster if i do that. maybe. i also finally finished my article, and posted that too. i have to move onto new projects now. yesterday and today i have had no medication, so it’s a wonderful thing i’ve gotten anything done. not as much as i wanted to, but something at least

well, the dog did die yesterday

november 16th, 2024

the dog died yesterday after i finished my practices. i came downstairs to wait for dinner and i heard [redacted] crying so i took off my headphones. i heard her say “est mort” and i assumed the worst; i thought my host dad was dead. then it took her another ten seconds to repeat for the little boy in the living room also. she said the dog’s name and i realized. oh, it was so bad. they cried and cried. [redacted] came home and dealt with the dog in the garage. i stayed upstairs until they called me for dinner and the dad looked fine. then he began to cut the pizza. i looked back up and he was weeping. he was like that all through dinner. nobody was hungry, so there was pizza left over. we had no dog to give it to. i felt very out of place. i went back up to my room after dinner and called my mum to tell her what was going on, and it was very good. i love her more and more. i will be home in a week to see her!

today is officially the beginning of seven days until i’m no longer in this house. because i leave next saturday for the airport / hotel. the train is at this time next week, anyway. monday will the beginning of seven days until i’m home. how crazy! five days left of school. thank god, is all i can think. i watched two movies today. the second one was very disturbing and i had been wanting to watch it for a while. it’s called nocturnal animals and it stars amy adams and jake gyllenhaal. i am obsessed with amy adams, and have been for a while now. i was glad to finally watch the movie, but it was way more fucked up than i thought it might be. and very bizarre come to think of it. i woke up this morning to another text from my mum. it was a video of a restaurant we go to in the dunes. she said, “thirty degree day on the deck with drinks looking out at the dunes. blues band playing. you’ll be here soon,” with a love heart. something like that, anyway. i will be there soon, and that’s a good thought

it’s full moon, and i’ve been put to use

november 15th, 2024

such a long day. remarkable and hellish. not remarkable for its hellishness, but for it’s plainness. remarkable for simply being the second to the last in line. today i observed a group of girls laughing at the school’s weird girl crossing the road, because she was running with her arms straight. they all mimicked her and remarked how funny it was. they were all rather ugly too, i thought, and that they shouldn’t be laughing at all. i wonder if i would laugh at her if i was ugly, but i don’t think so. those girls would never laugh at me for running that way. hm. this morning i realised that the bus rumbles on the dirt road as if it were a plane about to take off. i closed my eyes and tried to imagine i was already a week forward, but then realised again i was doing a noticing mindfulness practice in order to be present. how to exist in the world with an imagination in-tact is somewhere in my recent search history. last night i watched a film clip of charlotte gainsbourg, and she said something about how it’s very hard to attain randomness, because we all to some degree subconsciously lean toward organization. she said something like that, anyway. the little brother of a girl who goes to school with me and lives in my town here is picking his noise. he is anxiously looking at me to check i am not looking at him. of course i am. today i planned to go to the park whilst everyone had spanish so i could spend some time alone in nature, but my plans were interrupted by sudden news that we were all supposed to go to the old gymnasium to watch a dance performance. i don’t know how to explain to you what exactly i saw, but it was not a dance. a very okay performance given by two clearly talented thirty-or-older year-old women but done all the same in a smelly gymnasium for a handful of confused french kids, about “the importance of differences between people”. rather mediocre and nonsensical, and reminded me almost uncannily of the fringe shows which we have at home. we all survived

and wow, i have never seen anyone pick their nose that much in my life. is he okay? does he have any more nose left up there?

well, i have news for you! my clothes came. my dress is really beautiful. i cannot see the moon tonight which is a shame, but it’s okay; i know it’s there. it’s rather too cold and dark to spend time outside blowing kisses tonight anyway. so tired. drank a wonderful hot chocolate in the ten minute break between history-geography and english, and i talked to [redacted] about religious theories. i will miss her, i think. she will miss me more. i do not want to leave her here to rot. but! i am home in a little more than a week, and i’m going home, and i’ll be home, and real soon i will be at home. i cannot wait to do my ritual and fall asleep tonight; i am such a giddy girl

the world is kind again! when i am to it

november 14th, 2024

yesterday was such a high. i’m letting today be what it will be, and enjoying my dad texting me right now on instagram (for the first time ever) and on whatsapp about the dogs and aldinga. i’ve noticed a few things today, like a girl at the canteen who after she finishes eating, cleans her cutlery on the napkin before it goes to the lunch ladies, and a dark freckle on a big, loud, mean boy’s middle finger. and hey, guess what! my package has been delivered to the house. i recieved a message this morning and thought the worst, because i figured the same thing would happen this time, especially because i am not home this time. but i dropped the thought and set my expectations to zero. and then, just this late morning i recieved that beautiful, sweet message: votre colis a été livré. oh, sweet relief. i thought it might not happen while i was over here, but i am filled with such relief that it’s really true; and i cannot believe the luck of it all. how it has turned around for me, and i will go home to be greeted by my new clothes at the front door, carry them inside and try them on. i have three hours of class left, if my “life class” at the end of the day isn’t cancelled, which in the past it has been. rough, dense morning lessons, but two hours of english to go, and i’m sure it will all be okay now

successfully beautiful and aware of love

november 13th, 2024

i woke up as i always do on wednesdays and made the most of my extra hour with a grapefruit face mask, a podcast episode to listen to whilst performing my daily makeup ritual, changed into something warm and i remembered to put perfume on today; yesterday i wore my hair in braids. i took them out this morning very slowly and rubbed oil into the ends of my hair. now my hair looks beautiful and big and curly and alive, and perfectly messy and straight at the ends. i wish it looked like this every day. i didn’t put mascara on my bottom lashes today, which is the first time in my life, i think. i was feeling sensitive and worrisome, so i decided against it. my morning really was lovely, though. i walked to carrefour and listened to jazz all morning. i picked a dandelion to make a wish on. i bought lavender body soap, which i am going to bring home with me as a nice souvenir, plus some kinder bars for [redacted] to give to her later on and the red lindor chocolate for me. i took a nice photo of myself in the window of the front of the building i’ve been going to school in. after my last class today, [redacted] and i are going to buy flowers for my host mum

i had the most magical most impressive most amazing day. i bought my host mum a single white rose from some lovely young florists who understood me in french and then me and [redacted] went to a bakery and she bought me a the most cream-filled eclair. we walked up and down and talked, took photos and sat in the student building area. there were a group of old ladies sitting outside a candy stall / pop-op shop, trying to remember the name of olaf on their plastic cup. i walked by in absolute envious joy. i was bouncy today. when school ended, i gave [redacted] the little chocolates i bought her earlier in the day and then ran up to [redacted] before we both got on the bus. i accidentally showed everyone my underwear as i was running up to her, my jeans fell; but i didn’t care that much. when i got off the bus, the most special thing happened, the moon appeared out of the sunset. she followed me all the way home. i looked at her and blew her a kiss. at home, i have [redacted] her flower and then i went to bed early. it was such a nice day. the world is full of love again, because look at how it sees me trying with all the force i have. is this “externalising” except to good use?

unexciting day, land of grossness

november 12th, 2024

woke up to about twenty mosquito bites all over my body this morning, including one on my face, so that was a very nice surprise. the ones on my feet itch now, which is why i’m writing about it at all. it was an okay day today. i did everything that i wanted to get done, basically, and didn’t have such a hard time. i just spent the last two hours planning maths that needs to be done instead of doing it, which is pretty amazing. i feel pretty uncomfortable for some reason. i don’t know really. it’s like my body temperature is dysregulated; i feel clammy and hot but my fingers feel cold. i am just excited to go to sleep and leave the house tomorrow for good. wash my face and do my makeup and meditate on the floor, listen to a podcast whilst walking to carrefour. same jam. same cold. maybe i just haven’t had any water today. thinking about anything right now just feels a little tiring, because i am trying to physically be here but i mentally can’t prevent the image of home. i can’t believe how close i am. i can’t believe how little i have gained. i can’t believe how much i have gained. i am tired. i would like to sleep and wake up at home tomorrow. there’s so much in my way. and also nothing. i realized today that i have basically no ties left in this place, aside from some people i want to thank and a payment to make for the canteen. still haven’t looked at the envelope because i have no idea how i’m going to pay anything, let alone the insane amount of money i’m sure will be requested inside. i just can’t deal with another thing

there’s nothing you could say to me

november 11th, 2024

called mum last night. dad was on the phone too. i cried on the phone. it was loud in the house with the kids screaming, and mum said, “i don’t know how you’re coping with that,” and i said thank you. then [redacted] called me, and we talked for an hour. i realized all that’s missing is talking about love, and i guess you could say nothing’s changed, but a phone-call has changed everything. people still love me and listen for me when all they can do is imagine. all i have been doing is imagining. i won’t ever be able to explain this, but maybe that’s okay. maybe i know more than i think i do. life here is still coming my way, but i have people listening for me. that makes all the distance. i was meant to write difference, but i think i’ll keep distance there. i can burn through this and come out the other side a little comet. i’m taking deep breaths. i’m not managing, but i’m doing it regardless. i love myself more than you know

they’re setting up for christmas in the house here. [redacted] has been sent to his room three times today, and we’ve only just eaten lunch. we spent the morning walking around, collecting little wooden sticks that [redacted] hid around the village with symbols on them. the kids have to spend time de-coding them, but i wasn’t paying much attention to the rules. it was cold and raining a little, but i was happy to be outside. we killed an hour. i wonder what i will spend tomorrow doing. [redacted]’s at home tomorrow, too, i think, so probably nothing. i feel fine. it’s going to be fine. i’m listening to good music and i only have half of a headache and ringing ears from the noise downstairs

empty women, i want to speak with you

november 10th, 2024

today i sat downstairs and [redacted]’s friends came over. we all sat around the big long dining table and ate lunch. the first plate was avocado and tomatoes in dressing, followed by meat, potatoes, green beans, and a nice sauce for the meat. the women talked. i did not really listen to them, because i felt tired in-and-out all day. they talked about things they had been doing. someone went to america. someone didn’t want wine. i heard that kind of thing. i said nothing. i said thank you each time someone cut me a slice of cheese or passed me a plate for more servings. i watched the women a lot. i was trying to hear one thing. i just gave up in the end. i am not going to pity myself; i am too fatigued, really, which is my fault. i stayed up late last night watching tv on my phone. i don’t know why

i feel some relief that it is the tenth of this month. seeing double digits in the date is a wonderful thing. my eyes are very heavy. it is so loud in this house. every day it gets louder, and i am more keen to be at home than ever; every day is worse than yesterday. it’s okay to say that. every day i want to be out of here, back where the kids do not whine and shout like this and the parents do not feel so dull, and where the women are not so empty in front of each other. it’s only a short time now. i have all the same fears, though. how do i fit inside this time, and make sure i do it all right? this feels like infinity. i cannot work anything out when i am so muddled. i cannot do the noise anymore. i cannot do the shouting or the whining or the babies that are growing up through voids. always i can cry. i realize that now. i have not been allowing myself to, but if i do, i certainly can. i just have to open my chest a little

monumental day of my darkness

november 9th, 2024

it appears i am experiencing burnout. it appears i am learning the meaning of this word for the first time. i think perhaps i have felt it before to some degree, but in the past i have somehow subconsciously rid it of me: i have asked my mum for days of school and i have rested and recovered. i have drunk water in my nice bedroom with a select few warm lights on and i have taken warm baths and journaled about the moon phases. that is simply not an option here. here, i have to go. burnout surprises me because before this week, i had two weeks of complete nothing. but i am also sure i know why this did not fix me. so quickly, i went from that to this again. there is no gradual ease. it was like a shock-wave. i feel completely fried. it’s a strange, unnatural feeling. i can’t even describe it to you. it’s like depression but with the ability to function still; you have all the mental symptoms but you continue to push on, and as much as it might effect you, it simply doesn’t until you’re alone with it and remember that it exists. maybe this is my absence that i spoke of a while ago? it’s slow. i am not sure what to do with it. i cried today, very slowly and not well, whilst laying on my back and trying to do a meditation. i took three panadol and gulped water and then watched a series until dinner. it was okay. i am okay. but i am settling now, with the thought at least that this will not be over until it’s over

losing the battle of being faithful

november 8th, 2024

i feel a mess. last night i did not sleep. this seemed inevitable in the afternoon yesterday, when i came home and lay in the dark and watched the light from the slit in the door on the wall stretch out with little aching pushes forth and back. i asked myself the very serious question of, “am i tired, burned out, or depressed?” but i think everyone is laughing at me. they all know already. when i answered, i knew i would not sleep. i groaned and whined and stretched in the sheets and heard nothing but me yelling at myself. i hate when i do that. i felt so angry this morning, when i saw my forehead had a massive dent from the mattress. i slept in my makeup. the door didn’t shut when i pulled it in the car, so i had to reopen and slam it again. i ate no breakfast because last night i ate an entire packet of sour straps. i’m not read for another day. i have not recovered from wednesday, or thursday. i cannot do friday, too. i am searching for answers but getting too sore. why does it have to be like this? day after day, feeling dirty and unsure of life. feeling like i am waiting for you to call me so we can do nothing together; the idea makes me cry with relief and pain

i still have the impression i’m going to break any second. i don’t feel well at all, and i have to get my shit together before i see my local coordinator this afternoon. i need to be prepared to lie and not look frustrated and fed-up and fatigued; i need to be fine. is there a world where someone notices there’s something wrong with me? my mum is not awake. i cannot call her and tell her i am going to die. that’s not an option. i have felt worse, maybe. just two weeks. what’s that? nothing. i have been here for ten weeks, you know? that’s no joke. i am happy and sad again, i am a blackness and gold. i cannot rest my cheek on every cold tabletop i find but that would be nice. i am cold and tired. i am cold and tired. i am tired and cold. did this used to be romantic? it still kind of is. i still kind of feel beautiful because of this. i have never had such little energy for everyone. i cannot hold a conversation with a person. what does that mean?

worst place in the world is upstairs

november 7th, 2024

i feel as though i’m sucking the life from the world so that i will have a better chance of feeling colourful when i get home again. i am terrified of feeling certain about anything. last night i was thinking, but everyone feels this way forever once they move abroad; there is always something missing because the people and places and memories you love are scattered everywhere. it’s not that simple that you can just get them all together again. the place you grew up only recognises a person you used to be, and the place you live now is on the cusp always of seeing you as a stranger. it’s torturous. i want to leave home; but i do not want to feel alone like the way i do now i’m gone. i want to stay; but i cannot stay. and i am terrified of coming home and realising i actually do belong there after all of this madness. i am terrified of coming home and becoming truly certain i can never stay there. i am terrified of being sure about what and where i will be. i know that i don’t have to be, but can’t you understand that to some degree i must be sure? to ease my own mind, and to belong at least to the world if no single place in it

the days here are going so slowly, the more i think of home. of course they are. but it is impossible not to think constantly of home; i manage my distractions well enough. any more and i will peak into delusion. i watched a christmas movie last night downstairs, and have been listening to jazz and christmas music on the bus every day. it feels right to be cold as it nears; i cannot believe in a few weeks i will be blistering in the sun again. everything is reversed. i can’t make sense of it, or my emotions. i’m trying to clear my head, and i think to some degree i am, for it’s impressive that i still manage to know how i am feeling at all when i am so mixed up in this, but i feel like a ball of heat and energy. i cannot contain myself. i am jittery trying to escape myself and this place. i am addicted to list-making and planning. i am afraid that if the days go by any slower, i am not ever getting out of here. i can’t believe it’s ending and i can’t believe it’s beginning; where is my life in all of this?

i am the ghost you walk right through

november 6th, 2024

today i had a brief feeling that i’ve had many times since coming here, but it was in a very unexpected way. the closer i am to the end of my time here, the more i feel like i am just waiting for life to end again; mine in particular. i have no wish to be small-minded, but ever since i came here all i have wanted has been to go home, and i feel no guilt for this, as i know i have done the best for me with all else. the thought of home is but an anchor. except now i feel increasingly worried about loss, not just grief. what about the physical sensations of leaving behind something? i always am feeling it. it’s paralysing executive dysfunction; have i forgotten my phone, or my keys, or my money, or my bag, or my sunglasses? i should check the seats again; the floor again; the table again. this is how i live my life. but i have never felt such an intense loss as the one i feel now, and am preparing to feel. today i spoke with [redacted] about the bus-rides. it is the in-between of our lives here, between home and school. it is where reality does not exist. i cannot imagine the airport, for this is everyone in the world’s in-between; leaving or returning, it doesn’t matter. it is the only place where you should not be. does that make sense? trump has won the election in america today. everyone at home is posting on their stories. i have been ranting all morning, but i am tired and angry now. efforts of understanding the american political system are all futile, and i’m finding everyone more annoying than usual. if i wasn’t on the pill, i would say i was just about to start my period. i am not prepared for anything, but i am getting on with it all anyway

the world is going up in flames again

november 5th, 2024

same time every four years; the good-old american election. today is the polls. this is the time when parents grumble loudly at the breakfast table and mums tie their hair back, rubbing furiously at their eyes, red and bulging from the news screen. [redacted] tells me she watches less and less after covid, when she realised she’d been stressing the children, particularly when the war between russian and ukraine began, and now with what it is becoming. i told her i think it is important anyway. i consider saying, “people are idiots. politicians act on impulse,” but i remember the article i read before coming about the things you should not talk to french people about: number one was politics. i mount the bus with the news going on my phone, playing through my headphones, feeling others look over my shoulder to watch in passing. i do think how horrible it is to hear about other peoples lives this way, but i don’t think it supports my views or beliefs to shy away from parts of the world because it makes me uncomfortable or frightened

although i have nothing else really to say, i do want to tell you how much i miss home. i miss it like nothing else i’ve ever known, and i thought this feeling would subside the closer i got to leaving, but it hasn’t. i am living here, better than i was any earlier in the first term, but it’s not because it’s any easier. in fact, embracing how much i truly miss home is one of the reasons why the situation has improved; i think to myself that at least i have a home to look forward to seeing, and i cannot imagine that so many people go through this pain every day, but have it a million times worse. i watch movies about the war and see those letters from soldiers in the museum, and i cannot believe anyone’s real hand had written them. i am getting closer to something. i feel as if it’s in the air for everyone, not just me. like i’m in the final stages of making something happen for me. i am working on finding joy wherever i am, and on connecting with moments where i have felt truly happy and good, because i find it so easy to forget all of those times. i cannot tell you that this is why my situation is much better, but it’s probably a contributing factor. the only thing missing is everything else

hell bites, & i am back into the streets

november 4th, 2024

back on the bus, as usual, as i will be for another three weeks. my morning was nice: i did gratitude mindfulness and i’ve dressed for the weather. it’s biting cold. my nose and fingers sting each time i go outside. i’m pretty much pissed off by today already, but i know it’s never as heavy as the weight i put onto it. it goes quicker than i expect it to. i’m on the bus again before i know it. my classes today are really unbelievably slow and shitty, but that sort of thing happens. i’ve only got two days of this day left, and in ten hours, only one. i hate mondays here. i never want to complain, but it seems the moment i’m allowed to open my mouth, it’s all i do

my update is that i have survived four hours of class this morning. i have one hour of maths, and then two hours of sport to go. i’ve eaten pasta. then i am back on the bus. why do i give it this power? there has to be someone out there who hates this class more than me today. school is the exact same. we talked about politics at the lunch table today. i feel very upset about sport. do you know, this all would be okay if i had an energy drink and weed to smoke. it’s only counter-acting anxiety. i am excited to go home. to watch the sun setting on the bus and to walk home in the dark. i have to go, because i have water to drink, a bathroom to get to, and lipstick to put on. i’ll be back to tell you about the worst of it all

i’ve done it. i’ve made it. and it was not so terrible. i am on the way home now and i am listening to jazz music. i did an excellent mindfulness exercise just then. very impeccable timing on balance’s part. it’s so dark; it’s unbelievable. and it’s so cold. i might have never been so cold before. it’s hard to believe it will continue to get colder. i mean, oh god. my face feels very weak. my body has that feeling of wanting to give in. i am wearing my scarf wrapped all the way up below my nose. i am very excited to get home and take my warm shower, change clothes, drink a warm milo and eat something, journal. i cannot wait to eat dinner and go to sleep. i cannot wait to go to sleep. it all feels very easy for some reason right now. i feel good about myself. everyone’s elbows rub on the window and make the same little mark on the foggy window to see out. it’s very beautiful and dark

unmedicated and fairly joyful despite odds

november 3rd, 2024

roughed it today without medication. that was a choice and a half. i figured i’d try it out for the last day before school. i kind of love being unmedicated. only because it’s by choice, though, don’t get me wrong. finding the perfect day to let yourself go is special. i offer this rare chance to be totally unchained to normal day’s rhythm, and i go about my tasks—no matter how unserious or stupid—guiltless, because i know this isn’t how i live anymore. i can always get back on my feet tomorrow, right? there’s security in giving up for a day, committing to three movies and an early night. we went to [redacted]’s mum’s house today. it was freezing and the sun came out for the first time all week, just like i hoped it would for school tomorrow. the sky is clear now. we watched hugo on the arte channel, but i only saw the end. i remember hating the movie as a child, because it frightened me. i thought it was very beautiful this time. the end was, anyway. something else i love doing when i haven’t taken medication is showering. when i finally manage to get little tasks done, all the dopamine is much more real. eating feels good. sleeping is exciting. you do little things just for a kick, like stealing [redacted]’s little pink scooter and doing a lap of the street for no reason, walking differently. noises also don’t seem to bother me as much, weirdly. i distract myself easier; less regret. i ate three waffles while i was there, and forgot how to ask for a warm drink, so i just looked at everyone drinking theirs. i felt nice on the ride home. i just finished the others and am going to bed now, because school starts tomorrow and sleep deprivation might try me out again

listening to my pulse and poetry

november 2nd, 2024

i listen to this one song a lot. there are three that i can have on repeat, and have since last year, but this one in particular is different than the others. it is 17 by youth lagoon. the two others are simulation swarm by big thief and i only want to be with you by dusty springfield. often i listen to it when i’m moving around, like on car rides with my headphones in and the sun is getting low, or when i’m at the window seat of a plane. the song reminds me of my dreams in a way that the others remind me of my life. both are just as important, but i have not found another song that i can play this way and get chills every time that part comes on, where she claps and her voice gets deep and she says, “my mother said to me; don’t stop imagining, the day that you do is the day that you die” i think it’s uncharacteristically beautiful

don’t you think it’s very hard to remind yourself how young you are all the time? i so constantly want to address myself and write to myself because i want her to answer when it’s over; when you stop doing that, answering for the time, do you feel happy? i am so excited by memory, and the idea that one day i’ll have things to do. like, maybe i’ll drive around again with a child in the passenger’s seat and have wine to buy and a house to clean. maybe you’ll be there. but i know all my journals will be. all my words will be there, somewhere at least in drawers. that’s the most important thing. that one day i’ll have all of this, and more. every day you work hard to have a bit more than you started with. it’s hard to feel like you are losing, and you cannot do anything except wait for the moment you can grow your empire; a purpose, a place to live, a body to feed, money to make, joy to believe in, love to give into, humanity to face, little heads to kiss, floors of dust to cry on, clothes to be seen in. is it too much to ask that by then, i am there?

working and worrying through it

november 1st, 2024

maths is difficult. i want to have what it takes to be intrigued by it, but i find numbers boring, not fascinating. the patterns are scarcely there for me, and it’s difficult to get myself to do the work while i am alone. i was doing very well keeping up in school, or at least was trying to, and felt like i knew some things, but now all i can think about is how behind i am, and how much work i need to do in order to start IB next year confidently. i want to give myself the best chance of going in with all the same knowledge as everyone else. i don’t feel like i have less, but i have very different knowledge now because of this. in any case, i’ve had an okay start to the new slate today. i woke up to messages from [redacted] asking about when she can get me from the airport, and how much she misses me. that made me feel warm. i did my meditation on the floor and then i ate a pain au chocolat and played the sims 4. i felt pretty happy for a moment, but i over-stayed my welcome; i needed to get up. i showered, rinsing myself to begin with the new moon tea i set my intentions over last night; my salt crystal dissolved in it. then i did yoga, which challenged me today. it was proper flow yoga. i tried to journal, but felt like reflection would only make it harder for me to keep positive. i lay down on the bed and scrolled through memories on my phone from snapchat, listening to lana del rey, and sent a couple to my brother and friends. then i got to curiosity about the logistics of my schedule for next year. will it really be possible for me to balance doing what i should and will make time to do (school work, waking up early, learning languages), as well as my school commitments (IB, leadership, philosophy club and the dispatch), my outside-of-school commitments (alliance française, teen writers club, family and friends), and my personal pursuits and self-interests (writing, being, loving)?

it all seems like so much, particularly compared to last year. this year alone is a thousand times more difficult than anything i put myself through last year, but next year seems a thousand times more-so than this year. they have all been challenging in unique ways, but i really do wonder what it might look like to my parents. this feels like such rapid, uncontrollable self-growth. i would order the years like this, with little subheadings — 2023: mental limits sparking emotional growth and maturity, mantra: get up, get up, get up. 2024: personal exploration, mantra: pushing, pushing, pushing. and it seems like 2025: academic over-load, maximizing individual pursuits, mantra: stay up, stay up, stay up. i ate lunch downstairs with the family, and then came upstairs to finish my routine outline. i have no plan to force myself to stick to this at all; the only reason i created it was to see how in a perfect world, i would be able to fit everything in. the prognosis is that it’s nearly unforeseeable, but entirely possible at the same time. i just finished journaling, and then i did maths for an hour, but i’m not really sure you could say that. i didn’t really “do” it. i organized all the documents for homework over the summer; i had to download them and add them to folders. then i just kind of looked very confused at my screen and wrote down a couple of things that i thought might make sense. i left more confused. i’m excited for the poetry workshop tomorrow. i haven’t really thought about it since i signed up, but i’m happy it worked out. it could be great for me