On the 31st of January, 2021, I promised myself I’d write more for myself. Think of it as a New Year’s Resolution – but starting a month after. Did I keep my promise? Well, how’s about I just show you.
The Night Before February
It’s 10:53 pm right now, which means I probably had my solo dance fest around 10 pm? And now, I want to cry. I will. But, I promised myself I would go back to writing because I feel, not because I have to. I started this thinking ‘maybe this will finally be the big one’. And then, I corrected myself. This doesn’t have to be the big one. It just has to be me. That’s honestly what I want. But, to be honest, ‘The Night before February’ would make a badass title. I need to stop going back and trying to put in better words and whatnot – basically editing while writing. I need to stop. Hopefully, I’ll figure out how to over this new resolution. To just write. Stop trying to be perfect, Eri. Brownie’s dead. Perhaps, it’s your turn? I look forward to figuring out who this is though. I think my favourite part about whoever this new one is, is the fact that I don’t owe her to anyone but myself. So, yes. I look forward to the girl who’s just going to be me. I don’t even know what she goes by lol. But I know it’ll come to me. All the other ones did, didn’t they?
This is the most honest work I’ve done in a while.
Yeah. I think I’m done for now.
Wait. Okay, so a Christian song just started playing right now, and I just felt the need to put down that sometimes, I kind of miss god. Well, maybe not that tyrant lol. The faith. The delusion. Christian songs comforting comforting enough, but back them there was something deeper to them. I miss that. It’s sad knowing that there really isn’t anyone up there, and if there is, he doesn’t give two shits about me. Anyways, Hillsong United really figured out this music thing.
Okay, now, bye. For real, this time. Off to watch Sense8 because I really am enjoying that movie – and not just because I hope to see another orgy soon. Okay, maybe that too.
February 1st. After another cathartic dance session, I’ve decided I will dance…well, try to… every day for at least 10 minutes. It’s a way for me to guarantee 10 minutes of happiness everyday and I kind of like that.
It’s 1:55 am right now, and I just finished writing for work. I was so…motivated to do so. It happened right after I finished watching the season finale of Sense8. Perhaps I enjoyed it so much I had a burst of energy? Or do I just work better at midnight? I had this theory before, but never really tried it out. Since I’m trying to be more intentional with my life now, I’m making it into an experiment. Do I work better at midnight? Test 2 will happen the next midnight. Right now, however, I am going to bed…but right after I pee (and probably even wank). Good night.
I burnt myself today. Those 4 words rang in my head all day since it happened. For some reason, it seemed significant to write down. I remembered thinking about it. About my unwillingness to live. How easily I always want to give up. But how that changes for someone. For someone I want to live for.
I managed to write.
I didn’t dance today. Or yesterday. Didn’t write yesterday either. Well, I kinda did. The piece I published on Tell! and UCJ counts, I guess. I don’t know if it’s the sadness from burning my arm, but I’m not exactly in the mood to be happy for no reason. Whatever that means. It’s too early to start slipping. Sigh. But I’m doing it. I’ll do it. I ways do. Now, I just have to wait for it to happen. Here I am, staring my laptop in my face because I know I’m in for a long wait. I don’t know why I thought collecting 30 movies at once was a good idea lol. Anyways, that’s pretty much all. I just realized I defaulted yesterday. I didn’t want the same thing to happen again today. So, yeah? Bye, I guess.
My commitment is shit, isn’t it? Sigh.
Anyways, I feel anxious. No idea why. So, I was gonna do some breathing exercises. But then, I thought, you have another kind of release. I remembered this. I guess it kind of helped. I think I just want attention. I hate myself for being this needy. God. I can’t go on. Bye.
Note: That anxiety? Yeah, it turned into panic attacks. Three days in a row. I was triggered by everything, I logged out of my Twitter for a week. I’m back now, though. And here’s The Night Before March:
Now, I know you have some questions. Did I keep writing for me? Did I figure ‘me’ out? Did I get to see another orgy in Sense8? And those are just questions from the first day. Damn, right?
By the way, the answers are ‘I obviously failed’, ‘It’s still in the works’, and ‘Yes, I got to watch some other sexy group sessions go down’.
Anyways, since I failed, I’m trying again. The saying goes ‘if at first, you don’t succeed, try try again’. I think(?) So, here I am; the night before March. Hoping March will be better.
The thing is, February wasn’t that much of a failure now that I think about it. Normally, the reason I’m so unmotivated to write for me is just that. Unmotivation. But this time, I was so caught up in things actually going good for me. It’s been a good month for me, if I’m being honest. Yes, those 5 days of crippling anxiety were hell, but the month wasn’t out to get me like the others were. It was a good month.
It was the first time in my life I won something on the internet; an iPhone 12, permit me to scream:
I got a new steady (foreign) client whose payment offer made me seriously reevaluate how much I‘d been charging for my writing. My mom agreed to let me put attachments in my hair that aren’t natural colours (I know that seems stupid, but it’s a really big deal for me). And, best of all, Brownie died. I am a different person. Someone who’s living for me now, and that’s a crazy flex considering how long I’ve been living for people – even when I deluded myself into thinking I wasn’t.
It was a good month for me. And now, here I am, about an hour away from a new month, and I’m making an adjustment to the resolution I made last month, albeit sort of impulsively. What I want to do in March, and even the months after is to find this kind of release. Whenever it comes. I’m not going to try to plan it anymore. I always knew I liked spontaneity, so I don’t know why I tried to plan my happiness. It’s probably my fear of chaos. I do not do well, AT ALL, in chaos. Yet I thrive in spontaneity. I confuse myself, to be honest.
This is not the way I planned to end this, but then again, I had no plan. Anyways, I can’t really think straight anymore. Cramps again. Periods are so unnecessary. And, right now, my bleeding uterus is yelling, ‘wrap it up and curl up in pain’ at me. I must obey.
So, I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.