Fear is insidious. It takes anything you’re willing to give it, like the parts of your life you don’t mind cutting out, but when you’re not looking, it takes everything -Andrea Lochen, Imaginary Things
Episode 55: Chill. And just count to fuck
A film about the inner workings of youthful unobjective sexual thinking, a tell tale heart, the pit & the pendulum
But first, a summary of my sex life as if it were written by Charles Bukowski sitting in a liquor store watching an MTV show about magic
*Missy claps hands and vanishes, becomes Odalisque*
*everyone cheers for Missy’s cool magic trick with added verse and obscure word*
*But the trick is a trick, because no-one can see it. She has disappeared*
*the audience goes rubbernecking quiet*
*did a trick just fall in the forest, but no-one saw it?*
*No-one saw it except the trick & the forest. No-one else needed to see it, because no-one else was needed*
When the parachute fails to open, life fades into an abstract concept for the participant. The drop was always waiting for me, was it really so hard to see? No. In hindsight it wasn't. But hindsight is a wonderful thing
For those in need of a Metaphor to English dictionary, let me translate. My sex/desire/life consists of five constituent parts
- Trick (the creation of desire)
- Forest (the recipient of desire, otherwise known as the lustee)
- Parachute (self worth post trick, and post landing in the forest)
- Falling (danger/excitement)
- Smashing into the forest (self loathing)
My goal in life is to read my own palm one day and be able to figure out what happened to me. In TV shows, to figure out a crime and successfully solve it - the detectives look to means, motive & intent
Next up. Intent. To do grievous bodily excitement
This is my humanity beyond my capability on display
Part 2: Sex. It works but bares a nerve
We protect ourselves to excess because we learned abruptly and painfully that no one else would -Sarah E. Olson, Becoming one with Dissociative Identity Disorder
I like sex for my own reasons. I know what they are, just not sure how to explain them so they fit with the control group of conventional thinking
"In order to attain the impossible, one must attempt the absurd." -Miguel de Cervantes
There is no poet tonight. I had her voluntarily interned in a questionable asylum to keep her quiet. She was singing something about yesterday's
This whole projekt is not about my parents. They did the best with what they had available at the time. These films are about my choices
*food arrives at table*
Universe...take this anger back to the kitchen...it is stale
This is the beginning of my understanding
A new plate. A new meal. A new restaurant
When thinking about fully baked obsessions, I realise how we flow into them very naturally. Everybody has a different one. Maybe not everybody, because there are some remarkably balanced people. Others, such as those in my category, have to deal with them daily. Hourly. Minute by minute. Between the moments of clarity and half fried realities
I can't tell you how the nervous system works, but I can tell you how to kill it temporarily. How the cells split and grow into something that can type. If you want them to.
Part 2: Is there a practical way of having a fabulously diverse range of facial expressions?. Because I only have one, and I feel like I should have more
Being sexually fucked up is easier than ever. There is affirmation everywhere. It's ok, use your body. It's O K. Until one lays down alone
I know where it goes and there's nobody there to meet you when you find your fill of psychosis and a pocket full of pills - distractions from the profoundest of ills. Soul sickness. A hole to be filled by something too big to see.
The child in me has been looking for a peace, but it kept cropping up as a hell
My idea of what a family looked like dropped through a trapdoor. That metaphorical hat I wore, why did I pull it down so hard, so hard it covered my eyes?. I ask myself about the concept of intent all the time
Betrayal is trust broken. But there had to be trust in the first place. Otherwise it is something else
The geometry of the need plays well with the concept of betrayal
Asking for help is a gut wrenching experience for me. I am much more comfortable with my clenched fist pointed towards the sky
I am still caught to this day. The mania is on me right now. Stopping myself, it's the sickness working, and me working against it. I am still flailing around, swinging punches, kicking out saying no, don't, why are you doing this. Sometimes a whacked out emotional wreck looking for bedrock.
But I'm doing it less. And I know my mind is referencing the past. Most of the time
My emotions cause actions that don't fit other peoples reality. They are damaged, and possibly slightly deranged. I am overly sensitive, and I am afraid. Not afraid of physical confrontation but afraid of the emotional violence I am capable of
My fears about myself are real. My hopes are uphill. My emotions....I am trying to make friends with them but we're in negotiations. My people are talking to their people. It's expensive but I consider it an investment.
I have done a lot of work trying to get a hold of something to make me a better person
These films go part of the way to fulfilling that need
Part 2: The calm amidst chaos. But I just realised I don’t think I’m quite comfortable in minimalist spaces
My nature became fear based at some point, although my ego refuses to admit to such nonsense. Problematic stinking thinking
I have a hell of time remembering the words to a song. When I do it is usually a phrase relative to a person, place or thing I valued at a point in time. Reference points of emotion, belonging, not belonging, being wrong, being right, being very lost and creating loss. That's why the music in these films is so important to me. The notes within each song are a memory of someone or something
I have little affairs with songs. My head is full of liner notes. I was here, doing this or that when I heard this but at the time I didn't know why I liked it so much.
Songs are little lighthouses for me while I float around in an orange life preserver looking up to a sky spitting sparks surrounded by sharks. Often times I never really got what they were singing about. The song just made me feel ok. It never crossed my mind that so many songs are about love and feeling.
My ego sucked ass when it came to relationships. I sucked ass at relationships I cared about, or was supposed to care about. Let it be, let it go. It doesn't need me to give it a meaning. It just needs to breathe
It is some kind of feat to be willing to sit with the pain of rejection for so many years. Love is not begin with N or utilize the letters e..e..d.
Life isn't anything to fuck around with, all the moves, all the jive talk - are a mockery of the gift
I have tried to be very honest about the way I have used people to support my sickness
At some point I gave up. I said ok this is the way it is. My sexual curiosity got knotted up. Sex and guilt are related even though they are not.
But I'm not bound to some pre-determined angst ridden version of a life that got put in my way. I have been good at making life an obstacle. It takes a lot of work
I don't want to my art to be my way around what I need to go through or I'll never make a connection with myself. I could go on and on about the pressure of society and
all that stuff. It's all valid, it is all part of cause and effect. But it is not about symptoms, it is about causation
I cut myself off from the desire to need a hug or the word love. Whether my parents were right or wrong, that is not the purpose of the exercise. I'm not a victim seeking perpetrators
I need to get my part straight. No one else's. I need to know if I was wrong, am wrong and what I can do to make my amends
I write this whilst trying to not be clever. To defeat the intellect - because it rationalizes and keeps the feelings at heel. I told intellect to fuck off and let me feel
Fuck you - and we have a problem, a conflict - and so it goes around and around
I am the problem. I am the inhibitor of myself. I have to wear that if I want something to change. I can't give away responsibility for my part
I look to music to ease the insecurities of the past & future
Wasting My Young Years
Song by London Grammar
I've walked these miles
I'll never know what was like to be
I'm wasting my young years
It doesn't matter if
I'm chasing old ideas
Don't you know that it's only fear
I've heard it takes some time to get it right
Communication is a bastard at best, but I am here amongst the words. If I don't like what I hear - it helps too know who signed the agreement. Me
So I mainly just stick with talking to plants. Might have something to do with my love for nature. Plants do well when you talk to them. I like to keep a plant or two around. Plants are good talkers so it would be rude not to partake in the conversation.
Ragdoll as Progenitor
Help me forget
Looking at you
To explain what I see in me
What good are arms
That don't know how to hold
Twinkle little Star
How I wonder...who you are
Ragdoll "a doll made of rags"
Progenitor "a person who originates an artistic, political, or intellectual movement"