The canon event has come and gone. I'm not going to go into detail about what happened since no one needs to know about this. All I can say is I'm shocked how well everything went. My headspace is the healthiest it's been in a while and it feels nice to have tools to maintain it. If I was still the same person I was back in May this would have surely sent me down a dark path.
An unintended effect of constantly avoiding instagram due to my constant fear of "you know what," is that I feel like my headspace is slightly more clear since I really don't have everyone else's lives and thoughts occupying my head. I still have notifications on just in case Diana, Tiffany, or Kaitlyn want to chat. I did post last week at the peak of this good feeling I was feeling but I had to leave asap after that.
Last week, in therapy, I found out that I did enjoy, on some level, the cutting. I never did it for the pleasure that's involved. However, a certain sensation between the blade digging through the skin and the smell of blood was quite intoxicating, if I had to be honest. It's comfortable, but that doesn't mean I should do it. I haven't actively practiced since May but we have checked in about it every session since that's the reason I'm there.
Seeking pleasure in more healthy ways was weirdly enough, very helpful, in this whole process. I kind of hate that this deadbeat religion I don't even like has me very-much hardwired with the feeling that pleasure is bad, sinful, lazy, and punishment is good, deserved, rightous. I am close to finally shaking that notion. Exercise has been wonderful. Turns out I enjoy moving my body, getting sore, sweating, etc. It makes me feel alive. Eating more healthy also is a part of it. Despite being on a bit of a pendulum with the whole vegan thing, I cannot overstate how much better my body feels when I'm eating that way and not the other way with animals. Like sure, some of its processed but let's not pretend like anything fast food related was much better. Reading also helps scratches several itches, same with making art. Being on my phone does not quite do it, not these days at least. It's all a big practice, but I'm getting better at pinpointing and seeking these healthier alternatives. Its a good thing I was never someone who needed substances to have a good time. Blame Project Sunset Man for that lol.
After traversing a web of dead-end digits leading to more dead-end digits and being greeted with, "that's not my department but please give this number a call," I reached a lady from North Carolina about my billing. Turns out the amount is correct but they have a weird bug where sometimes they don't charge for the session immediately. As a result, it gets clumped with another session, thus giving it the guise of being an overcharged statement when in actuality, I got what I paid for. I wish their emailed reciepts had the items billed listed on there to clear up any confusion. I still anticipate that I may cancel September's appointment. We'll just have to see how I'm doing by then. The urges have been better managed than before. I feel like the looming anxiety that Stef may no longer be my friend, the constant worry that my art is on the decline and no one actually likes my work and has been giving me a massive pity party this whole time, my body still not looking the way I want it, and the fact that I have to live with an emotionally manipulative brother; I feel like that would have resulted in SOMETHING. But no, now these tools I've obtained have helped me manage these thoughts and help disarm and declaw other spirals.
Over the weekend, me and Kaitlyn watched most of the King of the Hill reboot. Her cats have taken a real liking to me, or perhaps they just like being pet and scratched. I'm so tired of being used. Sigh. Kaitlyn has been super busy lately with these animal services including microchipping, vaccinations, and the occasional giveaway of food for those who need it. While she enjoys it, the stress and lack of sleep seem to be mounting. I hope she has things under control. The seizure event from last year honestly scared me. Like yeah, she wasn't close to dying or anything but also, gurl take care of yourself plssssss! ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ (oh no, empathy😓)
Me and a friend had a secret dance party to the new Joey Valence and Brae album in the middle of the night where no one could find us. I busted down so hard for SEE U DANCE, featuring Rebecca Black. We were both soaked and breathless by the time the album finished. We rested on the cool concrete for a moment following the album. I'm so glad that happened.
I didn't get to go to the library for their yoga meeting and they won't reconvene until next month. I shall practice until then so I don't come off as too much of a dork.
Usually when I sleep I like to have something playing in the background. It puts my at ease because otherwise I think about how me and everyone I love will one day cease to exist. Heh, bummer I know. I never talk about this since there is no satisfactory answer regarding this topic. If I really focus, I can fight it, but it's super stressful. I may try it again someday. Anyways, my video of choice last night was a ranking list for worlds in Banjo Kazooie. I was close to falling asleep but then I noticed something. The lines were verbose, lots of fat but very little meat that pertains to the game. The description sounded kind of generic and he was describing things most people would not think to describe when talking about the levels. Several words leading into sentences were also redundant. Son of a bitch. He was using AI. Damn, damn, damn, damn (that is a reference to one of my favorite songs from My Fair Lady, my fav musical). His channel was made in April and he does these rankings and these sit-down podcasts. Shockingly, his language is more limited during the podcasts. Troubling. On Sunday, I saw this black lady on tiktok discussing the hazel boutique table drama. Her talking points were generic. She really didn't say anything I didn't already know. Then I noticed how perfectly fitted she was on the greenscreen, front to back it was like she couldn't move. And her face, so smooth and perfect. While not impossible, it was quite odd how her voice had these various inflections yet her mouth barely moved. Son of a bitch. She wasn't real. The username was a word followed by some jumbled numbers. That isn't totally out of the ordinary but I noticed she covered several topics, in the same spot, with the same clothes, and the same hat, all in the same spot. Further down, the black lady was gone, now it was a white man. The deeper I got the more I discovered various souless puppets farming for views. All bland, all lacking real insight. Troubling. I blocked the account and moved on with my day.
I think, as an artist, it will be more important than ever to make real stuff and not surrender to this ai stuff. I'm 130 or so pages deep into the sandwich book and you know what? This dude isn't a born writer. However, I find his life experiences interesting. AI couldn't write a story about a guy sneakily eating a turkey sandwich while his wife was giving birth. That's something that only a human can do, no matter how silly or mundane it may seem. Mr. Iguana is a professional wrestler for AAA and he utlizes smooth wrestling with his handy Iguana, La Yezca, to fight his opponent. AI couldn't dream that up. While Kaitlyn was organzing her shirts, she found her gift shirt I got her from Port Aransas because she wanted it. The graphic featured a bootleg gangster mario with a cigar, a pimped out Popeye, Bugs Bunny in that one meme suit, Thug Tom, Thug Jerry, and I believe a biker gang Bart Simpson with this text that read, "I Am Legend," superimposed in the background. All of that was done before AI and I think that's beautiful. SZA literally had people dressed as bugs and they were dancing and grinding on each other and everyone loved it. I think there's too much for humans to do and say for us to fully release control and let the computers do a shitty, reductive job instead. IDK. I'm just thinking outloud.
Sometimes I get scared that maybe my art skills have atrophied too much, and maybe once it reaches a certain level of "bad," no one will want to talk to me anymore. Its irrational but that lingering fear of being disposable still follows me everywhere. I'm scared that I can't make art worth watching anymore, that it's a waste of people's time. Art that wastes people's time is, by my standard, the worst thing art can be. Can you see how that would scare me? Drawing comics and doodles has helped but I fear that may not be enough.
Sometimes Stef would ask me on our car rides to Snarf's for their fantastic veggie sandwich on wheat no mustard add mayo no onion no cheese yes I'm sure no cheese, "how are you/how are you feeling?" Something like that. I would often say, "I don't know/I didn't think about that," because I rarely keep in touch with myself. These days, with the amount I am writing and the things I'm doing, I have a better idea of how I am actually doing. I hope she's doing fine, better than fine even. I hope she's still inspired to make beautiful music and seek out new friends and discover new foods and learn new things. Basically, I hope she's living life to its fullest. Its been so long since we spoke but I want to respect her space. I hope this is not one of those things where the two of us are ignoring each other because we both think that's what the other wants. That's happened before with someone else lol. It nearly resulted in a decade long or so friendship snapping.