I haven't felt this bad in years. Everything seems out of whack. Everything *is* out of whack. I have 7 years' worth of errors and misdirection to answer to. I'm also heartbroken for the first time ever, which I won't get into because I'm under the impression you don't want to hear about that ever. Regardless, I feel bad. I don't know how to make it better. I have to do better, that's for certain. I just don't know how. I feel constant dread, and there's this immense sense of futility and doom and failure within every movement. Within every sky, within every dinner, every drive, each time I sleep. Living has the quality of being dreamlike, where this feeling of unreality is instigated by what feels to be a more real yet totally intangible past. I keep thinking of this in terms of ghosts, but that seems really corny. I tell myself I'm going to change, and that's often the only thing that makes me feel better. But I never do, I never do.
Something I think a lot about is that at the height of feeling, there's futility. There's eternal pointlessness in everything. Every great kiss I've ever had is drowned out by the sea of future kisses and fuck-ups and graduations and teeth-brushing, and the enormity of all of those things in tandem, and how its sheer complexity cancels each other out, and nothing seems to matter. People watch other people watching other people watching people, bickering to an abyss. Infinite echoing, withering, mistaken for fluttering of sounds, once meaningful, revealing themselves as gibberish. Giant vacuums filled with spit. Mouths falling out of frame. "Regret" by New Order.
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A few days after the Animal Collective show that arguably changed my life, I drove to Calgary to hang out with Max. On the way there, I remember listening to Prefab Sprout's "Wild Horses" over and over again, which I found through a mutual of the Contain podcast on Twitter. I remember being excited to talk to Natalie once I got over there, which I ended up doing until 6 in the morning, slightly drunk off leftover PBRs. This was 2022. There's a Wattpad from that time about it. I just find it funny how past moments foretell future ones, even if my life has (miserably) remained similar forever.
