Depression is stupid and not a thing that makes me a better writer. One time I went a whole year without writing and I stayed in bed and drank. Fuck your Bukowskisms. I want sunlight and love and running down some street I’ve never been on where it’s warm and cool at the same time and I’m smiling. I want nothing to ever be bad again- and I don’t mean that I want a life free of conflict, I mean that I want a life free of meaningless conflict. Not being able to will oneself to take a shower or leave the house is meaningless. There is nothing to be gained, no lesson to be learned from that kind of life. My heart is stale, my prose is stale. Give me fire if you want to hurt me. Give me something I can taste. There’s nothing romantic or mysterious about where I am. There’s nothing here worth holding onto.By Joshua Espinoza (via quibbler)
I am done with glorifying depression and sadness as sources of art. Depression is an illness, not an inspiration; sadness with no catharsis is self-indulgent and meaningless. Give me happy and free, any day of the week.
15 HAPPY-ING THINGS!
Tagged by flowerjizz
- going out to gigs of small bands I really like whose music I really get into with a friend who’s equally into it (it’s almost always Marta) and pushing to the front and just cutting loose and dancing, moving so hard I have to take my glasses off and getting so sweaty and dizzy by the end of the night and waking up the next morning with killer neck cramps and oh gosh I’ve really missed doing this.
- going to an art gallery when I’m feeling sad or lonely by myself dressed really well and wandering around for hours looking at art, earphones plugged in tuning out the world so it’s just me and the infinite image, just me and the artist, something so quietly intimate, writing poems in my head the whole time; telling nobody the things i saw.
- similar to the last one but instead waking up early or alternatively staying up all night and catching the earliest train out in the winter to a beach and watching the sunrise over the sea on my own, the waves lapping so gently at my feet, watching as old women go swimming in the freezing water before dawn and wondering what secrets they keep to themselves, coming home with sand in my toes and a fistful of broken shells.
- when the idea for a story or a poem starts to gestate in my head and I can feel it starting to come to life but I can’t quite see what it looks like yet, all it is is a phrase like she ran warm water over her ricepaper skin or i’ll never write poetry my mother understands or what a beautiful trainwreck we’ve made or just stay
- when that phrase turns into a sentence into a stanza into a paragraph and it coalesces like ghosts from mist, like streams into creeks into rivers into waterfalls into oceans ocean oceans
- playing either dark souls or fire emblem 7 again after months/years for the 50+th time and knowing all the design principles and geographies and timings and enemy placements and secrets and thinking that as trivial as it is this is something i’m good at, something i’m better at than anyone else i know, and, in the case of FE7, seeing all of these characters i loved so much growing up come to life again and interacting and being comrades in arms, precious little children caught up in a war none of them want, and getting my heart broken by every character in dark souls sigh
- soft kisses in the dark
- when sophie falls asleep next to me while i stay up late blogging and she starts snoring so preciously; coming home to sophie after my morning shift and finding her still naked in bed sleeping gently and beautiful
- leaving parties drunk with someone i love, holding hands and skipping to the train station with them, feeling so glad to be alive and grateful for fragile connections that i have made that make me feel so much
- watching anime and cartoons and movies with emily and getting so into it together, and then debriefing afterwards for literally the length of the show and getting even more emotional and into it. the other day we were debriefing on the korra finale and i shared an iroh headcanon and we both actually started crying. this also happens with sophie, like when we watched the amazing spiderman 2 together and i didn’t even know she was as into spiderman as i am and we just made wailing pterodactyl noises the whole time and u kno what fuck popular opinion i loved that movie it was exactly what i wanted from a spiderman movie. and the same with marlo and i and lord of the things. actually i’m turning this entry into a media analysis appreciation post since it’s one of my absolute favourite things .
- when kat and i psychically communicate and our lives synch up in amazing and uncanny ways; like always coordinating outfits without talking about it, or when kat reblogged chungking express screencaps as i was watching it for the first time in a year, but also when we talk about stuff, heavy political or personal stuff, and realize we’ve come to the same conclusions or had the same experiences without ever having brought it up before, and knowing that we exist on the same wavelength and we’ll always grow together and that’s why we’ll always be best friends
- listening to a song i loved dearly but haven’t listened to for years and years and still knwoing every layer of production, every lyric, every inflection. conversely, listening to a song or an album for the first time and knowing i was in love with the sound.
- going for walks in parks with my friend keep, one of only two friends i kept from high school and the only one i still see regularly, listening to him talk about how much he loves nature. the other week we were taking a walk aka on a date in the botanical gardens and he said “let me show you something i found” and we walked for half a fucking hour and it turned out to be a lovely fountain. people had thrown in bottles and cigarette butts and we fished them out together.
- articulating the big story projects that i have in my head to my friends and having them get into it and get emotionally invested (this is especially fun with alex and kat because they cry at everything) and it’s just nice that something that existed only in my imagination but made me feel so much was suddenly bigger than me, existed outside of me, would continue to exist, however brief or incomplete, even if i died. stories are best when they are shared.
- going to sleep feeling good and knowing that everything will be alright. speaking of which, goodnight.
thanks for tagging me kat, i’ve been having a hard time lately and it was really cathartic to talk about the small things and big things that make me happy and glad to be alive.
i used to want to be nothing but now i think i want to be a painting. i want to be a work of art. one that exists only to remind you that you are the softest thing that i have ever touched.
someday i’ll get tired
of this transitory skin
someday you’ll get tired
of this body i am in
&when u grow weary:
dont forget the sky
we held hands under knowing then
that someday we would die