K o r o u v a @korouva - Tumblr Blog

can't hold on, can't let go

Lastly, I can tell my romantic partner does not like the song I wrote and shared with them. I believe they may be taking it personally but I want to grab them and say that this heartache and this feeling follows me around EVERYWHERE, and would most likely follow me into any new relationship in time as well.

I want to tell them not to worry and that I am doomed but also I know that is The Drama talking and I am just as likely to turn around and look at them with love laser beams shooting out of my eyes. How does anyone love me at all? I am a real handful.

#music #love #relationships

I have a separate blog for when I am insufferably manic and it is a cry for help in a way this blog could never be.

Hello it's me again. Bloated and with an everlasting and psychosis inducing desire for love. Who will love me? Will it be me?

The truth is that I do love myself. Most of all.

I recognize myself on this blog because this is where the pain lives

Yet I sometimes worry about being perceived as humorless .. which is funny because in my interpersonal relationships I prefer being silly. I have always been an unintentional seductress but it's gotten me into too much trouble over the years and so I dampened my animal charisma on purpose but now my libido and life force is just entirely gone and I think hmm... maybe that wasn't such a good move after all.

Perhaps I'd rather reject someone or be assaulted or inspire jealousy than live in this deadened state. On the up side my black clothing has suddenly become less appealing. With the infusion of blood has also come a renewed love for colorful clothing. Without desire and at least some inner thread connecting me to pain, I just don't recognize myself. Who is this robot... I am.

It always come back to fear I suppose. Fear of what's raw inside me, and the fear my own rawness inspires in others. Who cares! I'll just keep making my fancy coffee at home and ignore the fact that I'm feeling creatively impotent. That's worked so well before. What new pleasures can I distract myself with hm?

Nothing I ever do is good enough to share. Nothing! I recorded 13 songs in 2025 but I won't share them... what is wrong with me!!! People email me all the time asking about new music yet for some reason I won't release any of it. I wish I knew why!! I wish I had a definitive answer for why I've stopped sharing almost everything I make. I take photos, I write, I record music, I sing, and I do these things ALL THE TIME like it's a full time job. And yet I keep it close to me and that's that. I wish I knew why. Is this due to recovering still from so many traumatic events? Severe illness from the past couple years? Is the fruit not ripe? God only knows.

Making sense still of my ER room visit ... says a lot about this place that it was hard for me to distinguish between fatigue from my job and life threatening anemia ... i got a blood transfusion and two units of blood and i could def use two units more ... back in september when i kept thinking "i feel like im dying"... well... turns out that's exactly what was happening... i was...

I am Frankenstein's monster being resurrected by lighting in a b-movie. Life is returning to my body: My libido rises, my hunger grumbles and my heart beats, emptying itself of blood. But first I feel very sick. The motion goes all up and down my body... I really might be sick after all. What is this feeling? Is this the return of life, or psychosis?

If I was the monster I might be thinking that but also maybe I am thinking that anyway.

At the bottom of creation there is emotion, and at the bottom of emotion there is movement.

I don't have any sins to pay for. I don't have any lessons to learn. Forward now; only initiations into my own private nirvana. The opportunity arrises in the bath, in the song, in the bloom, in the blood, in the perfume... In privacy I am in the temple speaking in my own forgotten language. Who remembers?

I have always been a power generator.

I am the field, the mood, the unheard rhythm in any room I enter. I am the temple, cracked and crumbling wherever I go but let me tell you this... I am intact.

Maybe even pain belongs. Maybe even ache belongs. Maybe even a broken heart belongs. I only ever wanted to meet myself. I only ever wanted freedom from saying, "Not this and not this and not this and not this," which was a cage. I feel the trickle from the dam about to break. Nothing else matters. My aching to be free will yield the pain of being free and then perhaps the joy of being free and then the tears. I will be whole again. I meet myself at the threshold. I meet myself in purgatory. I meet myself in Hell and only laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh.

Lastly I have long toyed with the idea of a persona. An act I guess. In it, I am this wild feral and untamed being and everything is permitted. She is primordial. Yet I am realizing this is not a persona I invented. It is not a character. That is me. That wild and untamed, raw and morally ambiguous, somewhat dangerous and deeply sensual person is me. I am wild. And even in my quiet state, I challenge people with my being free. The world has not tamed me. And I have not bowed down, not once, not EVER. Sometimes I have felt this is 100% a liability but I am realizing I crave this side of myself more and more and more... I don't have to be naked, covered in mud and sucking meat off the bones now do I ....

That day on the beach was really a portal moment for me because I realized... hey... I could be living like this. It was sunset, it was really hot, I was sweaty and covered in sunscreen and sand and saltwater and had been walking on the beach for a long time as part of an ordeal and also I was getting the worst chest cold of my life, and at the end of it all we had to walk up this very long, steep incline that overlooked the ocean and my heart was beating so fast I thought I might die or at least pass out. The surf was huge, scary, barely swim able . I was only in flip flops, bikini and backpack and something in my belly was full and distended as I took these deep gasping breaths and yet what I felt was LIFE. It was not comfortable but it was beautiful. I realized that feeling close to death is really not a bad thing at all if you feel alive. What's worse is living half dead in comfort, and I don't want that for myself anymore.

I am enjoying how I'm changing. As I imagine moving out of the country I'm surprised how effortless I feel about saying goodbye to many of my possessions. The things that matter most are the things that other people have given me, or that involve memories with my loved ones. Overall there is little that exclusively lives in my world that I care about (the exception obviously being my hard drives of photos, but those too are mostly about people). And I just look around me and I think how I am surrounded (and have been for a while) by meaningless things, and isn't that an apt metaphor for the life I've been living...

Not that I haven't done my best to find my own meaning. But there is a difference between making it work, and genuinely having an external environment that makes you thrive. I have only had my internal world for such a long time ... and I am glad for who I've become, and how my lack of external world has forced that...

But I'm ready to get rid of all this stuff -- baggage in my heart, mind, and literal stuff that feels so stagnant and immobile ... My living out of a suitcase era is rapidly approaching and I can already feel the lightness of that reality pulling me forward

Shut up bitch

genuinely so interested why someone would send this to a blog I almost never update

You know what, I really do come from outer space

Doing music for 1.5 hrs everyday for the next two and a half weeks because I am

Hello. It’s been a while. What kind of surface dwelling insanity have I been in. Going deeper, EXHAUSTED by going deeper, but can’t be happy UNLESS I go deeper. I’m wired a strange kind of way. I am sad until I remember i am the goddess. I asked someone at work not to psychoanalyze me. Bored by talking and so I only respond by laughing when I think something is funny… otherwise I stay out of it . Don’t know where truth is at these days, didn’t think I cared, but as of this moment I think I really do

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