i can get higher

Trigger Warning: DEATH

I’ve been thinking about death a lot. Not in a grim way—because it doesn’t really take away my energy. At least not anymore. I think about death a lot because every day I try to be ready for it. Every time I wake up I tell myself this will be the day I’ll die. Every day. Since then I’ve been seeing things differently and some of the views aren’t really pleasing. For a long time, I was scared, and noticing it prancing in and out of my mind bothered me. Some friend told me a bad spirit might be living inside me, and that I have to try really hard to get rid of it. When friends tell me that I just nod and pretend what they’re talking about. The truth is, I don’t know what they’re talking about. And it’s okay, I guess. 

They don’t know what I’m talking about either.

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Hello,

Welcome to Drunken Monologue. What are you drinking?

You know I feel like it would be really cool if I turn this into a podcast. I bet that would be fun. I can invite guests over, and let them talk about anything they want to talk to ramble about. Or I can also not invite anyone and just be very vain. Like now. I will be extremely vain. And drunk.

Hmm. Where do I begin? So many things have happened. I feel that someday, I’ll be super lazy and just scan my journal entries. This newsletter was meant for me to write a lot, but it occurred to me that with or without this project, I will still be writing a lot. Do you still write in your journal? If you don’t anymore, let this be a sign to get back into it. It’s fun. It’s like hanging out with yourself. I’ve been doing it since I was, I don’t know, ten? My mother would hate it when I start writing in my diary. Ugh. She thought writing was my form of rebellion to her. Gosh, I wish my mom trusted me more. But anyway, people who have owned and still own a journal right now: do you ever not write for a really long time then when you do, you write a fast-paced montage-esque really long run-on entry narrating everything that happened in your life??? Yes? 

Back to death.

I know it’s a taboo of some sort, but I wanted to talk about it. You see, I don’t want to die yet. Let’s start with that.

I try to be ready, I try to face it with poise. But deep inside, I can't deny the fact that I don’t want to die in the near future. Or in a few weeks. This 2021. And here’s the thing—I know it sounds stupid. Even for me, it is! 

I think my obsession to change the world made me too stubborn, and honestly, I sometimes don’t like this part of me. It’s like a different kind of overthinking evolved into this hilarious paranoia that I may not be able to do something consequential in my lifetime. So I do my best every time. I don’t see right and wrong decisions anymore, I see them all as consequences, and I just do what’s best for the circumstance—not just for me, but for everyone. 

At least when I die, I know that I gave my all. 

And maybe when I find out I’ve done everything already, I’ll go poof and disappear.

But for now, I guess I’ll stay and take my time. And try to live.

I strive not to overwhelm myself with these thoughts but sometimes I fail and wander into somewhere dark. A recurring theme in my life deals with seeing the big picture in every situation, and I was made to believe that it looks like this gigantic painting of everything that’s happening at the same time. But it’s nothing like that. It’s a whirlpool of horrible, mesmerizing, and humongous paintings of everything happening at the same time. And for a millisecond or two, I wander there. And it’s all so strangely beautiful and beautifully strange—I can’t explain it.

I’m drinking Cerveza Negra, btw.

Have a great weekend, you. 

LOVE,

PLAYLIST:

Origami Lover by Gold Spectacles
Honey by Moxie
Henny in the Hamptons by Bren Joy
Digital Love by Daft Punk
Wobbly by Ezra Furman