you could sleep better if you let yourself
(where’s the fun in that?)
sleep isn’t fun; it’s restorative. it’s so that you can have fun during the day.
(sounds like a lot of pressure)
you don’t have to have fun
(then what’s the point)
of sleep?
(of anything)
sounds like something between you and god
…
(i don’t sleep because sleep is a commitment to another day of this)
of what?
(this)
what is that
(…)
that gesture confuses me much more
(this cycle)
like a life cycle?
(like a laundry cycle)
i’m lost
(getting clean to get dirty again. same old same)
what would you like to change?
(that assumes i have a concept of anything other than monotony)
you must, or you wouldn’t be so dissatisfied
(‘so’)
what?
(feels accusatory)
i’m making an observation. i could be wrong
(you’re not, but ‘so’. the tone)
i apologize
(thank you)
so are you dissatisfied? is that a mischaracterization on my part?
(i think the part of my brain… that sounds dumb. i don’t know what i’m talking about really)
go on, i won’t judge you
(i think the part of my brain that would feel satisfied, doesn’t know how. can’t receive that chemical input)
sounds like depression
(except my whole life. can you be depressed your whole life?)
not certain. usually there’s peaks and valleys with this sort of thing
(scientific of you)
if we aren’t judging
(sorry)
thank you. so it sounds to me like-
(you already have an idea?)
this is my job
(but i haven’t told you anything)
everything you say is telling me something
(jesus)
yeah
(okay go ahead)
all right. i get the sense something happened in your childhood
(shock)
hear me out
(upon shock)
if you’ve been depressed as long as you can recall
(i should’ve sat down for this)
then i wonder about the things you can’t recall, from a young enough age. how those years may have shaped you
(you’re gonna love this one, chief)
what is it?
(i can’t remember shit)
that’s my point
(i can’t remember shit, like, until a few years ago. there’s nothing)
childhood birthdays?
(a couple of them)
vacations?
(just one)
school?
(nope)
friends?
(sort of)
books or movies?
(i watched a lot of TV)
anything stick out?
(a mermaid show. i loved a good mermaid)
how did you feel when you watched the mermaid show?
(it wasn’t called ‘the mermaid show’)
what was it called?
(i don’t know)
then why- okay. so your feelings.
(i felt happy when i watched TV. felt like i was someone else)
didn’t like to be yourself?
(didn’t like to ‘be’. just liked to watch)
and write, eventually
(yeah, and write. that’s why i started writing. it kept me from having to be)
why don’t you write as much now?
(i write poetry)
i know
(and lyrics)
i know
(what do you want from me?)
i think you know what i’m asking, and that’s why you’re acting out
(i’m not acting out. i’m twenty three)
not right now. right now, you’re timeless. ageless. floating in the white sea of your subconscious
(if i’m subconscious how am i writing this)
i didn’t say you’re subconscious, i said your subconscious. possessive
(makes it sound like i own it, or have any kind of control)
you have some control
(bullshit)
i think you’re wanting total control
(yeah)
that doesn’t occur naturally, in any scenario
(except writing)
writing, yes. so why don’t you write?
(i’m writing right now)
yeah, and why?
(because it’s what i live for)
so why don’t you write much anymore?
(i write plenty)
not anything that you consider valuable. that you consider to be usable.
(it’s pressure, maybe)
do you think?
(well, i know you have an idea. what is it?)
i’m not here to tell you your problems.
(then what are you here for?)
to walk you out.
(what?)
to support you as you find your way out
(i’m paying you too much)
you’re not paying me
(i’m paying attention)
for now
(yeah)
yeah. why don’t you write?
(i told you. pressure.)
pressure isn’t bothering you now
(this isn’t going anywhere)
it could. you could publish this
(but i won’t)
and that’s why you’re indulging it
(that’s how i can even get started. it’s not conscious. it’s subconscious.)
the big white sea
(whatever)
work with me here
(the big white sea)
you sound scared when i ask you this question
(shitless, sure)
and defensive
(am not)
and trying to be funny
(i think i’m succeeding)
subjective
(everything is)
you’re digressing
(no i’m dad)
this is charming
(so you get to be sassy?)
if that’s the tone we’re setting, sure
(fine, i’ll play. ask me the question again)
why don’t you write?
(it’s not that easy)
you’re doing it right now
(yeah but)
but what?
(i don’t know! if i knew why, i wouldn’t be here talking with you)
i’m you
(what’s your point?)
if you don’t want to be with me, you don’t want to be with yourself
(checkmate? i guess?)
you don’t like yourself
(i could’ve told you that)
sometimes you do
(rarely)
but often you don’t
(yeah)
yeah, and that makes it hard to sit in the silence and write
(maybe so)
it’s not silent right now, is it?
(no, the TV’s on)
you love a TV
(yeah. always drowned out the horror)
yeah. lean into that.
(okay, leave the TV on. easy enough. what else?)
what do you think?
(for fucks sake)
i’m supporting, not carrying. why don’t you write?
(because i dislike myself?)
yeah, but what else?
(there’s more?)
you’re still here.
(fine, uh. i dislike myself and so i judge myself harshly on my writing)
even though you objectively know you’re talented
(yeah, i think so)
you know so. and you know that no one online gives a damn, and that’s where you’re posting
(okay, yeah)
so why judge yourself?
(i could do better. i could do it right)
how?
(the descriptions. the timing)
you’re not perfect. you’re not an expert. that’s acceptable
(i know that)
you know all of this. so why can’t you accept it?
(because i don’t know. because i’m dissatisfied with myself)
you enjoy your writing once you’ve finished
(i don’t feel pride in it. not really)
you should. you’ve put in the time. you’re good.
(ish)
people tell you so, all the time
(eh)
you’re good. why do you hate that?
(because i don’t feel it. i don’t feel proud of anything i do)
why do you think that is?
(i’m too busy feeling scared)
of what?
(of none of it meaning anything. or of failing. of never getting out of here)
do you think leaving your parents’ house will make this dread go away?
(not really. i want it to, but i think i’ll still be damaged no matter where i go)
that’s the spirit
(fuck off)
no, really, why would you bother with anything if you believe that it doesn’t get better?
(i didn’t say it doesn’t get better, i said it won’t automatically change because i left)
so it gets better for some other reason?
(probably)
how?
(i become successful)
notoriously true, success bringing happiness
(shut up)
you know that’s not the answer
(i have to pretend it is until i find the real answer)
you have no ideas?
(i thought romance, for a while. now i don’t really know)
you’ve been in love before
(yeah, once)
did it bring you satisfaction?
(i think so. it’s hard to remember accurately)
that’s very grounded of you to admit
(yeah, i try not to fool myself)
(don’t fucking laugh)
i’m not, i was just… coughing
(uh-huh)
so you think love made you feel… what?
(love made me feel alive)
expand on that.
(love made me feel like i was seen. and happy. and had a reason to wake up)
loving her, or being loved by her?
(a bit of both. mainly the act of being in love. the way she felt about me stopped mattering eventually)
which is why you allowed her to mistreat you.
(don’t skip ahead)
sorry, i just know all this already
(pretend you don’t!)
so what was she like?
(beautiful. smart as anything. made sense. made me laugh. understood.)
‘made sense’?
(yeah. she talked and i felt it.)
felt what?
(i felt what she was saying. it’s like when you get in the tub and it’s the perfect temperature)
what?
(i don’t know. it’s like everyone else has a pane of glass between me and them, and with her, there was nothing. no glass. nothing lost in translation.)
so you understood each other?
(yeah, no explanations. she liked me. she loved me, in a platonic way.)
she liked what about you?
(my music, my writing. my humor. my love languages. my mind. who i was.)
who you are now.
(i’m not the same)
you’re pretty close. just improved.
(that’s kind of you)
i’m kind. which means you’re kind.
(stop sneaking compliments.)
of course.
(she did that, too. found reasons to be nice to me)
you miss her.
(everyone thinks it’s rose colored glasses. that i can’t possibly miss her still)
who’s ‘everyone’?
(my sister. my mom. me, i think.)
you think this is romanticized memory?
(i think i was a kid.)
you can be in love at 16. it’s allowed.
(it’s stupid.)
16 year olds are usually stupid.
(i think i was, too)
that’s acceptable.
(i guess)
so she made you feel satisfied. loved. understood.
(every day. even when she wasn’t around.)
interesting. how did that impact your life?
(i wrote more those years than i ever have, and ever did since, i think)
we’re not just talking about writing
(that’s what i’m here to talk about)
how did it change your life? how did you go about your day?
(i woke up happy — i remember that. i wanted to make her proud. i was excited.)
about what?
(i was excited to share myself with her)
you enjoyed sharing your art with someone who cared about you.
(of course. who wouldn’t?)
do you do that now?
(i try to. it’s hard)
how come?
(well, fanfiction is a specific audience. i wouldn’t share it with my sisters.)
fair enough. do you share it with friends?
(i don’t have close friends at the moment.)
but you share your music with others?
(with many others, yeah. it’s easier to make music right now. maybe for that reason)
maybe. maybe for several reasons.
(probably.)
you used to share lots of stories in your old fandom. how did that compare?
(i enjoyed the praise, but it felt hollow. no one knew me. i felt like an object.)
no love there.
(commodity. that’s the word)
so you miss having someone you love to share your art with
(yeah. i miss the understanding. and the affection.)
if you loved yourself, it might feel pretty similar.
(i don’t know how. i can barely like myself most days.)
maybe that’s where we start.
(maybe so)
(sorry for being such a bitch)
don’t be. i love a bitch.
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maybe it’s all in my head am i dead in my bed in 2010
if i’m lucky then i’ll never see you again
if you’re lucky then i’ll never see you again
black forest blooper reel bunk beds and stainless steel
him atop you atop me atop him
isn’t this fun? isn’t this a good game?
isn’t this how killers get their good name?
naked and cold and afraid and alone
not quite ever alone
yet forever alone
just the bone running home up the side of your hand
down your arm and your elbow your shoulder and-
puppet shows puppet shows no one around us knows
hollow tin chest and a bucket of bait
christmas tree christmas tree stage lights and you and me
singing for anything, singing for- wait-
me on my tiptoes where grass grows and lord knows
the sky and the fire the lights and the rain
the shiny black asphalt the planes in the air
the stars that aren’t usually there
there is a need, just a void in my stomach
i feel it whenever the music stops
before i could speak i could feel i could think
i remember distinctly the way my heart drops
the lamb for the slaughter the lights on the water
the voices behind me got lost in the wind
the smell of the sea and the jeans below me and the fear that somebody would know
the lump in my throat and the twinge in my hips
it’s late and i need to go home.
please stand at the door
and check all the stalls
don’t look at your phone
don’t take any calls
i can’t be alone
there’s men in the walls
there’s men in the walls
there’s men.
just after sex when the air’s coming down
i’m out of the fog but i can’t see around
exposure all over, flat chest and knock-knees
my body’s a temple for vagrants and thieves
my body’s a home for imaginary men
my body’s a playground for all of their friends
my body’s a rest stop so come lay your head
my body’s still dead in 2010.
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