8 pm.
When it hits (and it does), it won’t call itself depression (when that’s clearly what it is.) Well, I don’t think that what I have is clinical; I believe it is the obvious and normal response to the world and all our countries governing themselves so horribly. Yes, the given response to what I am seeing and reading and learning and numbing myself out with and calming myself down with and upping myself with and….well, downing myself with is a stronger feeling of bleeuugghh. I ask myself how and why we make art when the world is still the world. How and why do we go on going on? In place of a tiny godlike expert on our mental states (on how to survive), I prescribe myself Things. People. Places. New Books. Constant movement - and what privilege! Anything to take my mind away from the stench and back again. Still - I cannot look away. I am trying to be soft and responsible, trying to be informed and alert. I go to iherb and spend some more money on tinctures and (legal) powders to aid in the getting on with things part, but the constant search for Deep Wellness Against The Weight Of Things is another never-ending story.
* Maggie Smith’s You Could Make This Place Beautiful just arrived in the post.
It’s a gorgeous sentiment. Might try it.
8 am
For those who want to know, I’m now back in LA. 🌞 And this morning was unbelievable—I walked out of my house at 6 am into lines of fresh, enticing colour. The sun was rising. Things were breathtaking. I was so so in love! In love, I tell you! Oh. I will not write you a lie, ever. Sometimes, I am so overwhelmed with a thrilling, new, sexy love for the world, all these palpable feelings that rush up like mist around a mountain, coating everything with iridescence and peace! Deep Peace! My toes and other extremities tingle. Of course, everything is possible. How could I ever have thought any different? Today will be the day everything changes, and I will not be the same again. Ever. Ever. Ever.
Do you think you might have bipolar disorder? Said one man I was living with in my twenties. No, I just live here. I replied, and then we had sex again.
Sometimes, I feel so Utterly Complete - like I’m never not going to understand my purpose or lose my joie de vivre again. I’ve cracked the holy code! I am enlightened, so enlightened
and then….
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