i should stream everytime i highhhh lol
oh so it's humming in public when your almost thirty and not caringgg
OMG thirty it kinda just hit me
so inspired by anne frank rn as i teach her diary to 8th graders for theh third year in a row. im feeling like writing again. like. my child could be readin gmy journals in the future. sneaking them like i snuck mom's. or did i . i dream about that so often, i dont remember if it was real or not.
i think writing is within me, i used to love it. it was so corny and unorginal and half the time literally unoriginal as in plagiarized. but i feel like i should.. but there are hesitiations.
corny
stupid
performative
useles
anyway. i think it woul dbe nice to journal. i get a thought in myhead, like the humming tweet/thought, and it knocks aroudn in there for days on end.
i can't believe ive had edward for almost a year (from july to now march). it's unreal that i finally have a cat!! and such a sweet, silly, curious curiosu curious little cat. i feel very often scared that i do not love him enough. it's my ocd. attacks the good things in life so of course my freaking sweet pea of a cat!!!!!!
my ocd surrounding nick and our relationship has improved by a landslide. as part of my own treatment, i can't/won't indulge in the details of it all here. writing abou t these thoughts and feelings can be antithetical to my progress. don't want to turn writing into a place where i do or do not give in to compulsions. but currently i am incredibkly happy with my life. and that is wher ei will stop the discussion of this topic.
back to writing. i am falling back in love with readin.g joining frankie's book club has gotten me back to my english graduate self. i lvoe the written word. i love th e things toni morrison can do with text. i love critiquing and dissecting and eating a book. i love thinking! i love learnign and i love new understandings. i love knowledge for the sake of knowledge and discovering a whole word i have never known about. i looove sentence structure and sytnax and playing with form. and i have forgotten how much i love it and i am so happhy to have returned to this love affair.
i feel ridiculuous with the feeble bits of what's left of my attention span and daily bandwidth. i think i may post this to tumblr, which is either the wisest., most full circle, and beautiful idea. if i were to start journaling back on the account i made in 2012, solely to blog about one direction. and now to look back on thoose memories and feel so distant from that naive little girl. and so distant from the thing that once served as my adolescent source of happiness -- a lifeline. orrr rr it's so so sos so corny.
i have changed in so many ways. i have stayed exactly the same in probably more. growing pains are hitting at the moment, but i am looking back at that little girl with so much lovve.
i feel that this is something my mom would write. i feel a strong sense to share this with her now. she is someone who perhaps is high all the time and truly solely through life's joys and miracles, and nothing else. she writes like this in instagram captionsand text messages. in the most genuine, sincere, and heartfelt way. she means every word. i admire the way that woman has grown and claimed her autonomy over the past few years. she is going through thingsi cannot imagine and holds it all together. i want tot be able to just tell her all of this to her face. i know she knows how i feel but i don't think she knows how much. i want to work on building an adult relationship with her and articulating what is hard for me to do in the face to face. so a birthday card has been my middle man.
i think i am going to end here for now. i think this could be self indulgent, but i suppose all writing is. i feel liek in the age of the whimiscal/substack it-girl, a lot of writing i see feels ridiculous to publize and promote in the current state of the world. what a random new york transplant thinks about a niche-topic-of-the-week. and now i feel that what i am doing is quite ridiculous. journaling online. but no one's going to read this anyway, and why not keep it on a website that hopefly lives for very long. and i suppose writers write and nonwriters write and i teach that for a godamn living so i don't know why it feels soo silly and selfish (??)
i may wake up in the mornign and delete this. but then i remember i wrote a poem in a PD workshop that made nick cry. so i think maybe i am good at this. not that that's the point eve nnnn
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