Personal Diary / Journal - art, addiction and a whole lotta love

2020 Feb 23 Sunday

No diary entry for yesterday. There just didn't seem the time, i was focused on the rehearsals and then felt a bit tired. Felt like a lot of activity these days, movement taking it's toll as well.

Feels good to be back at my keyboard. My Baby Love kinda was disappointed there wasn't something she could read this morning, she didn't say anything but i felt it.

I hate to let her down, even in the slightest, and i do sometimes. Sometimes she asks me to bring her something from the kitchen, i go and smoke and forget to bring it to her. I still think i'm the best (for her), just not perfect.. :(

My dance moves and voice were well-received at rehearsals yesterday. I had my doubts but they liked it. I eased it in consciously a bit, playing with my instrument as well and just tentatively having a go at the microphone, and out of some 8 or 10 moments, only on two did i just move+voice, leaving my instrument aside.

They invited me to watch a rehearsal of their other band, with the possibility to sing for a bit. To be more exact, i am to read something i wrote in my native language. The guy said it's concrete poetry, whatever that means. I just wrote non-sensical words as the syllables came to my mouth by instinct.

I haven't been struggling as much with my food addiction these days, but on the other hand i've been porking out on food. Can't wait for tomorrow, i'm starting fresh with my 1970 calorie diet, gonna be some cravings to write about. You may have noticed that my daily word output has been lighter since not all the frustration diary work.

I had a small revelation a couple of days ago, writing about my body/mind practice. I characterized it as something that can be done non-stop with just a little focus. You see, since explaining this in this diary, i thought the focus should be on observing my movement. But the way i put it was that i should focus on listening to my body. That's a slightly different thing, and since then, when i do it, it feels more relaxed, more outward somehow.

Time for moving of the bowel. Man, i love sitting on the toilet waiting for nature to do the work. You see, in time, it WILL come out wether you want it or not, there's no reason to speed up the process. The inevitable. I think waiting for the inevitable is a very human characteristic. - enough deepness, i better wipe and get back to the kitchen, i have Dub-Techno waiting for me on our small portable speaker.

[..] As i returned, the kitchen seemed colder and darker than when i left, just a few minutes ago. After a few wipes, i had to own it and take responsibility. You know, my budding OCD gets more and more unsatisfied as the contrast grows between the neatness with which i fold the toilet paper and the growing distance it travels from being clean. Does that make sense? Let me read it again. I think you got the message. I had to wash myself, i would have been wiping for ages, and this is not my favorite activity, especially since i've gained this weight i'm trying to undress from.

It occurs with me that i haven't mentioned if i'm a boy or a girl and what gender i identify with. Did i somehow slip up with my pronouns or something, or are you a sexist for having used statistics to figure it out? Just joking, but i don't care if you get triggered. It's on you. The comedy i watch transcends this political correctness, don't get me wrong, i don't think i'm there yet with my own comedy, it's sparse at best, but i posses the spirit to make fun of these things.

What do you think, does exposure lessen the triggering, or will it just get worse and worse in time? Why do i say "worse"? If you get triggered easily, you have to understand that just as these nuances are a part of your identity, such is the identity of not so forward-thinking individuals. They have the right to protect their identity as well, don't they? You have to accept that, even if you feel somehow superior, and probably rightly so.

Plus, people have their own egos, and you have to learn that lashing out aggressively may not be the best way of changing the world. It's more a measure of your own ego. Just as you're hoping to receive more acceptance from the world, people deserve to live and die with the beliefs that they have been fed for generations. It's their right not to change, even if it's for the better. Give it a few more hundreds of years, you'll see that you won't be a minority any more. ..and learn to laugh about it, for God's sake.

I hope, however, that my readers are among those that are forward-forward thinkers, that means forward thinkers who also can step back and see the whole truth. Forward-backward-forward people.

I better go see if Baby Love has woken yet, she still has a sore back and i want to make sure i can't get anything for her.

Not yet.

About this political correctness, and, more in general, educating people, i have the wolfies. The two sides. One one side there is the "i don't care about you, i'm writing for myself", and i think this is the more pure approach. On the other hand, i realize i feel differently preaching wisdom on this platform than to strangers at the supermarket or on the street. Maybe because you, as a reader, are at least that, someone who reads. I hold you higher that the average person. I feel we're somehow on the same level.

That sounded arrogant toward the poor blokes out there on the street. But some of them, you have to agree with me, are almost too stupid to put one foot in front of the other. And it's hard to tell the dum-dums from the normals because they almost look the same. There are always signs though, if you take their appearance in carefully, but you're always going to be surprised by a nice old lady who doesn't pick up after their cursed animal. I say "cursed" but it's not the animal's fault.

Never the animal's fault. That's why you can't get too mad at these people, it's mostly not their fault. In the same circumstances, i don't think you or I would have had a great chance of turning out differently. There are things they can't control, plus one bad decision often leads to another bad decision. Maybe even a good decision puts you in a position to make a harder decision later on - than you otherwise would have been in. And it can turn out that the good decision at this point (after you made 3 or countless good decisions already in this chain) can be found and put in use only by ones that had better uncontrollable circumstances to begin with.

If you put it that way, you could say, how is it anyone's fault? Who is responsible? Heck if i know. I just hope i won't have to be institutionalized when i get older, as a consequence for my young adult decision to use drugs, combined with a vulnerable predisposition, my uncontrollable circumstance.

Don't get me wrong, i think i would do well in a mental institution, i've been there before, it's just that i would miss Baby Love very very very much. Plus i wouldn't want to be a burden.

The crazies could be my people. The peers i never had. My gang. Forced to accept me for who i am, me being forced to accept them in turn. Daily walks outside, pleasing myself in the shower, eating healthy, having secrets just to have something that's mine alone, keeping others' secrets, avoiding trouble, having innocent fun.. it would be great if i could be allowed to still write, maybe doing mind/body practice all day long.

[..] (Baby Love woke up, gave me a bit of a fright) you know, living the good life, sort of. Knowing for a fact that those giving me hard looks indeed have serious mental problems, not just fighting for 3 inches of elbow room on the street because food and toys were hard to come by when they were little or something.

I think i'm in the mood for some mind/body practice, not so tired anymore.

[..] my body wants rest. I feel a bit tired after these days filled with creative practices (rehearsals 3 hours yesterday, 3 hours Thursday and my own devices at home), eating too much and drinking, going to sleep yesterday at 2am and i think that's it. My mind is in great shape, haven't felt too much frustration, like i said. I have some clarity but my body is weary.

I feel the desire for affection toward and from my Baby Love. She left for some groceries and beer and i miss her very much, even though she won't be gone long. Miss her very much. Concerned about her crossing the street safely. I have very tender feelings, like i'm clinging to a thread. Desperate for her.

I forgot to ask her to get me some cigarettes as well, this thought (i wrote "touch" instead of "thought") i feel brings me to my senses a bit.