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im done with the looming threat of male inflicted violence preventing women from spending time with the empty sidewalks and waxing moon
Jan 29, 2024
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alone, bathed in quiet.
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Top Recs from @dietcokecat2004
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bc that’s most likely not your problem! (exceptions do apply)
Feb 24, 2024
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This might not make the most sense but if I don’t write it I know I’ll be angry with myself.
As someone who has always naturally been drawn to archives and journals and stories- I’ve found that I’ve been trapping myself in the narrative. The idea that life is a singular, vertical narrative, that pain is not simply pain but part of some bigger cycle of distribution and retribution. That pain is naturally repaid with love or safety or comfort. This narrative keeps me coddled in myself, it keeps me safe from having to face the fact that tomorrow might not be easier than today. That this year might not feel much better than last year. That as some things go on, they don’t always get lighter. They don’t alchemize from emotionally pain into material pleasure.
The hero’s journey tells us that the narrative follows simple steps. We are called- your alarm, a Britney Spears song, plays in the morning. Your car breaks down in an unfamiliar part of the city. There’s a death in the family. Whatever it is, the call is something that moves us from familiarity to the unknown. It pulls the hero into the journey. We will then face the unknown and hopefully overcome it. But what about the calls that we don’t answer? Or when we get stuck in the unknown? What about when we are braver than brave and we still cannot overcome everything? I’ve learned that sometimes our pain doesn’t come with atonement. Sometimes there is no return.
Life doesn’t fit into the narrative. The alarm in itself is a narrative, you set it the night before, or maybe you set it three years ago and you’ve been waking up to the same song every single day. The car is a narrative, the unfamiliar side of the city is a narrative. Why haven’t you been there? The death is a narrative explored and experienced by every person in your family, every friend of the dead, every coworker who called the morning after to see why they didn’t show up when their alarm went off that day. Everything is a million narratives coinciding and to trap ourselves into one, to tell ourselves only one story, is blinding us to the intricate nature of life. We cannot exist in only one dimension, and to choose to exist in various different- sometimes beautiful and sometimes horrible- narratives at once is to choose to stop coddling oneself, to stop following your pain like it always has something to give you.
Sometimes it doesn’t. Maybe that’s fine.
Mar 11, 2024
so i learned abt seasonal work from this chick i hooked up with a singular time who worked w the peacecorps and travelled all around the country. i didn’t want to go home last summer so i decided to apply to work as a host at a fuck ton of hotels and lodges in national parks. i ended up working in yellowstone for the summer and it absolutely changed my life. as someone whos not super exceptional and who’s worked in food service since i was 14-15, i really never thought i would be able to get to do stuff like this. the people i met in the mountains who have been traveling for years on end and just working these shitty service jobs to support it really changed my life. we r suffering in late stage capitalism but there is a really beautiful world around us and i suggest you try to see as much of it as you can.
it’s not as hard as they make it seem and it’s a million times more valuable than staying in whatever bubble we’ve created for ourselves.
(me at the top of one of the tetons holding quartz)
Feb 15, 2024