Tag: glass box

banana, coconut, papaya, apricot x

banana: favorite horror movies?

i am unfortunately unable to watch horror movies because they get inside me and i get Too Scare and very very sad and anxious. i can just about run up to an “annihilation” level of thriller/body horror but that’s where i disembark

i also don’t watch movies nearly ever but that’s, its own problem,

coconut: favorite perfume?

i’ve been wearing ck one a lot lately, in a real appropriative 90s bitch/lowest-hanging-fruit-genders kind of mood

otherwise im eternally working thru the samples i amassed three years ago when i bought a lot of things at sephora, but i don’t have any strong favorites rn of the ones in rotation

papaya: what song describes your aesthetic?

answered but i’ll go again and cheat even more egregiously this time. “needing/getting” ok go + “hard times” buke & gase + “variations on a cloud” miracle musical + “the cn tower belongs to the dead” owen pallett

apricot: what do you do when you’re sad?

in descending order of frequency:

if it’s the regular sads & i’m just like, dwelling in it: reread my sadposting tumblr tags, listen to random music, obliquely pester or soberly avoid pestering my friends, write poorly or obsessively, watch ten consecutive youtube videos of moderate comedic value

if i’m trying to fix it: listen to upbeat music, walk around, seek out an actual social interaction or engage in several online conversations at once, potentially even engage in a physically affectionate activity which is the ultimate in mood fixing but also wholly forbidden so that’s challenging, eat a delicious food that i like

if i’m in the blistering all-encompassing thought crush howl of depression fear: curl up in my desk chair at 2:30AM, listen to loud dissonant melodied music to try to suppress some of the tracks of my thoughts (sleigh bells, as a fallback/default), write extremely weird delusional things, if i’m unlucky get all the way to engaging with another person and say some sad limping oblique monstrously weird failed-cryptic misery shit, develop bizarre ritualized eating habits, attempt to form logic out of puréed-and-frozen brain slush, wind up with a hateful suspicion against the concepts of causality and existence

fortunately that last one gets to live in 2014-2017 where it belongs

NO clue why i feel sad/wanna float out of my body. doesn’t make sense. some hypotheses:

  • ate fried rice (??)
  • tired
  • don’t want to go to this lecture/exhibit for class (i love exhibits but im terrified of actually encountering an artist, especially a real good political activist genius artist when i am an extremely stupid baby)
  • alone in room
  • not getting my work done (more likely a symptom)
  • not actually a very interesting person; unsatisfied with own efforts at “art”
  • can’t have $6 bubble tea with almond milk in it every day of life
  • lonely again but a weird subset of it where i miss having crushes
  • lonely but because i can’t have that one thing that i should never try to have again anyway
  • tired

hahaha can u believe im doing a thing for a poetry class that involves a “trash diary”, i just made fucking plastic bag yarn like i’m a first year saic student trying to make a statement about littering and feminist fiber art or something

memoryslandscape:

From the complications of loving you
I think there is no end or return.
No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn’t it?
[…]

Therefore I have given precedence
to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods
that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.
And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.
And I say to my heart: rave on.

Mary Oliver, “A Pretty Song,” Thirst: Poems (Beacon Press, 2006)