I have a disco mirror ball instead of heart – on purpose once, because I wanted to be everyone and no one and all that, but now because the patterns it reflects whatever in are the one thing encoding what I’ve learned or am or know. It’s time now (it was time two years ago already), cause the need for blaring people, blaring artscenes, blaring movements, blaring ideaologies to endlessly come at you/to you has a hundred ways to make you suicidal and attrition is the surest, so it’s change or die. But I propose a bargain to whatever god will listen: pry the disco mirror ball out of my chest so that a normal heart can grow, then I will trade you both my eyes to have it back and place it where my eyes were.
‘I’m having a breakdown about the fact that the vibe of any artistic or intellectual community is always gonna be determined by the people in it who are fundamentally self affirming, not fundamentally self questioning, so every community I will ever encounter will always have a closed-circuit lingua franca that’s painful to me and that makes me feel like a ghost (even if lots of individual persons in the community are self-questioning people when they aren’t doing/thinking intra-community things that have to be done/thought in the community’s lingua franca). I feel like there is no cure cause things aren’t as meaningful to me outside communities but, like, by nature it’s the people that people like me are a ghost to that shape the communities.’