Note on Self ii.

i am writing this from my bed where cerrone is playing. i'm wearing fake nails for the first time in my life, my favourite colour; grey blue. there's two fans on because it is over one hundred degrees today and a blue zombie gloomy bear is hanging above my head. i feel comfortable in my room because it's always cold in here and everything i like is in here, and it tells a story.

i was talking earlier about pavlonian concepts in regards to terf ideology and the way that seeking out art made strictly by women because you hate men is inherently misongynistic in that you are defining a woman not as a woman but as "not a man," relying on the hatred of men to enjoy media created by women. and it eats itself. it's an oroboros of trying to justify your existence based off of the hate you feel towards something, thus giving that something all the power back. you end up loving something for what it isn't instead of what it is. and that's a tragedy, truly, because those artists and that art deserves a fair shake. instead they're consumed out of spite. people

like terfs are always looking for reasons to justify their existence.

ishaan told me yesterday that i didn't need to continue to attempt and "justify" my emotions or what i say and do. he's right like he usually is, but i can't help but feel i need to offer an explanation for why i am and why i'm doing. i have to perform and prove and justify because at the end of the day, i'm sorry that i exist, and i'm sorry you must be subjected to me. so i have to justify myself, because if i don't, i'm just torturing you by existing in your space and in your life. i feel guilty for being alive. i wish that there was a cause ending in death that i could offer myself up to, that way i at least become nonexistent with purpose and hopefully, less guilt for potentially hurting others by dying. then i think: "oh, now here you go. c'mon, get off the cross, you aren't a martyr." and i feel extraordinarily guilty. this is another cycle that never ends. i can't feel bad for myself; i don't think i deserve to feel bad for myself. i give up on myself very easily, but i'll spend years dedicating my life to helping and supporting and breaking my back for others.

i mentioned this somewhere else, but a few nights ago while having a breakdown i texted ishaan something that profoundly describes my condition. i said "being the most loyal dog doesn’t mean you’re the strongest dog it just means you’re a stupid mammal." and that's how i feel. i feel like a very, very, very stupid animal. a dog tied to a pole by rope waiting for its owner to return as it is too stupid to realise it has been abandoned there. no one is coming to save you. nobody loved you enough to take you inside. here i am feeling bad for myself again, thinking i am a martyr. you see what i mean? cycles. it never ends and i could go on like this until the end of time. usually i do.

there isn't anything unique or special about what i do to myself in my brain. i hate myself more than anything in this world and this constant thinking about myself reveals that i am disgusted by myself. yet i think about myself all the time; i am self obsessed. self disgust is self obsession, but we've been over that already.

the disco record i know nothing about continues to play. track six, the final song, entitled "love is the answer." it is a fun little record with not much depth in it and i like it for that. nothing has to be so serious and so important all of the time. i'm now listening to a synth downtempo kind of novelty record called "dancing for mental health" by will powers who is actually iconic photographer lynn goldsmith with her voice shifted down to make her sound more masculine. it's a parody of self help gurus and such that were incredibly popular around the time, but it is still such a fun and interesting listen. it'll probably end up as one of my favourite records ever, sincerely. it even has some elements of daft punk in it. it's just something i find to be very neat.

there's a movie called "marvin & tige" from 1985 which i really wouldn't recommend to anyone unless they were john cassavetes diehards, which i happen to be. there's nothing much remarkable about it except for that john cassavetes does a pretty good job impersonating himself for the role. it's a cute movie, very 80s, and maybe a hidden gem for cassavetes fanboys like myself. i have a theory that he probably only took the role as a means of paying off whatever scheme he managed to pay for love streams the year before or perhaps gloria, not sure. love streams, i think, musn't have cost much as it was filmed in his own house. but then again, who knows? john had a way with things, with everything. and i miss him.

"marvin & tige" is a fairly naive movie in terms of social structures and what not, but i don't think it hurts anyone. i don't think anyone watched it. except for us cassavetes lover boys. it is very early, and i am very tired. short check in for today, but hopefully at least something to chew on.

i hope you have a good day.

radio free harley xoxo