It’s been a while since I last posted here. Mostly because I just haven’t had anything interesting to say or share. I’ve not been well; it’s been one mystery illness after another, with a good dollop of mild depression mixed in, and a sprinkling of existential crisis to garnish. For the sake of my health I’ve had to give up coffee, cane sugar, dairy, wheat, and alcohol. Basically, all the things I enjoy consuming and which bring me comfort when I otherwise feel like curling up into a ball and disappearing. On the upside, being deprived of these things has made my skin look great. Maybe that will make up for the all pervading self loathing somehow? We’ll see.
The thing about blogging is that- unless you’re famous or otherwise deemed “important” by some segment of society ( whatever the fuck that even is anymore) you know it’s really just a funny word for: “talking to yourself on the internet”. I’m at the stage where I’m not sure what feels worse- pouring my heart out into the void- knowing full well that nobody anywhere is going to care or notice, or not pouring my heart out into the void- because I know full well that nobody anywhere is going to care or notice. If I want to feel invisible, irrelevant, and generally surplus to requirements I sure as fuck don’t need to go online to do it. Taking that extra effort to photograph creations, upload them, then share/ talk about them feels increasingly like an act of desperation; like begging for attention. I resent the shit out of it. ( I didn’t grow up with the internet, so all of this online stuff does feel forced and unnatural). But then, if I don’t do those things; if I just let my creations gather dust here at home and never attempt to share them in any way, my creations ( which are- to me, at least- a form of communication; a question- specifically the question: “Do you understand?” ) are a complete waste of time, energy, and resources anyway.
On a more positive note, I tried two things over the last few weeks that I’d been wanting to try for some time. Those two things are- in alphabetical order: DMT ( Dimethyltryptamine) aaaaaaand…. Remote Viewing. Just to be clear, I didn’t do those two things simultaneously. Both activities were separated by several weeks of timey-wimey stuff ( A.K.A…time..) . The Remote Viewing came first, and I may talk about that in more detail at some later stage, but- without sounding too cocky, it does seem that I have a natural talent for it. The 4 experiments I participated in yielded much better results than I was expecting. At first this discovery seemed exciting; I thought to myself “Here’s something I should explore more!” but then I realised it’s a talent that has no real practical application ( as with my other so-called talents ). But hey, it’s a fun exercise, and maybe- if nothing else- it may prove a good distraction from the gloom and feelings of impending doom that have plagued me with increasing intensity for the past few years.
( if you don’t know what Remote Viewing is, just look it up. Be surprised/ amused/ weirded out according to your personal preferences).
As for the DMT, I didn’t “break through”, but I do feel as though I was right on the cusp of doing so. I saw the impossible geometry; I heard some sort of crackling sound- or more accurately, what sounded like nervous electronic birds chirping a misremembered joke, or rusting sentient toffee windmills whirring wonkily in a silent breeze breathed by asthmatic monks, or dark blue staccato pixie giggles being broadcast over a distant yet impossibly close radio. I didn’t see an entity…but I felt one. I distinctly sensed a presence; felt someone/ something standing over me and silently observing. I didn’t sense any malice, just curiosity. Apart from all that, I simply felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, wonder, comfort, and love. If only it could have lasted longer! At any rate, a pretty lovely experience, with some possibly related weirdness later on in the night….but that’s another story for another day…if I can be bothered.
( if you don’t know what DMT is, just look it up. Be surprised/ disapproving/ interested/ cynical/ bored according to your personal preferences).
I’m not quite sure how to say what I want to say, but in simple terms, I guess I could say that I’m becoming more and more preoccupied with the subject of Death lately. Not in a particularly negative way, just in the sense that I’m becoming increasingly aware of my mortality. Maybe this is a natural byproduct of getting older ( I am in my 40’s after all…sigh..), but it’s more than just that. As I hinted at earlier in this post, I’ve been feeling that my time on this planet will be coming to a close sometime soon. I feel it more and more every day. Don’t ask me how I know- I just do. Without going into all the nitty gritty details, the increasing amount of Death related synchronicities; spooky, unexplainable dreams ( which I’ve had all my life); experiences of an otherwordly, spiritually profound nature are all happening with a regularity that I just cannot ignore anymore. The End is rapidly approaching.
Some days I feel depressed about this. After all, I never amounted to anything. If I’m very honest with myself, I know that at one stage I did have some potential. I could have been a musician; a songwriter perhaps. If I’d have made better choices, perhaps I could have studied something. Perhaps I could have thrown myself into research, or started some sort of business, or created an animated film, or taught music to children, or bought a little farm somewhere. But I didn’t. I couldn’t decide which way to go. So I made no decision…. which meant I remained a nothing and a nobody- with no direction; no real achievements or accomplishments; nothing to show for my time here. Regret consumes me until it chokes on me and I on it.
There are other days when I feel a sense of exhilaration and liberation: I embrace the spirit of ‘YOLO’; grab hedonism by the hand and hit the dancefloor of life before anybody else has even begun feeling drunk. I throw caution to the wind; plan voyages I can’t afford; break all the rules; embrace spontaneity -and outright recklessness…..
….But mostly it’s the first one. I do, after all, have a daughter, and she is my world. Not only is she the one human being on Earth who would care- or indeed notice- if I were no longer here, she would also be genuinely negatively affected by my absence. Truth to be told, this is the one and only reason why I’ve bothered sticking around for as long as I have. Indeed, a few years before she came along, I made a serious attempt to…y’know… leave, but the earlier than anticipated and infuriatingly well-timed return of a holidaying flatmate ruined that plan ( they saw the note; called the ambulance; broke into my barricaded room…and the rest is history), so here I am. Damaged, but alive. I feel exceptionally guilty for bringing a child into an increasingly dysfunctional world that is so clearly falling apart, but I do unconditionally love her with a fierceness that I’ve never loved anybody or anything else with before- and never will again. And this Unconditional Love- which many never get to experience- is a privilege that I’m grateful for. I will nurture my precious sweetheart; hug her; encourage her, and just throw love at her like confetti for as long as I’m able to.
In the bits of life inbetween, I’m not sure what I’ll do. At times I’m seized by an urgency to reconcile with estranged family members, and to reconnect with nature properly; with the old ways. I feel called to grow my own food and make my own clothes- as I used to do. If this impending death is coming not just to me, but to the world as we know it in general ( I think we’d have to be kidding ourselves if we think we’ll be avoiding some sort of calamity for too much longer. Just look around!), I want to go out the way I came: up in the mountains, surrounded by trees, birds, peace, and minimal human bullshit.
As for creativity, I have no idea what to focus on. Part of me wants to ignore my doomy intuition and open the little online shop I’ve been envisioning for a while- and to hell with the futility of it all….while another part of me wants to get off the internet for good and just enjoy creating for the sake of creating, and forget trying to connect with people- both online and off. One silly little voice ignores that and tells me to let all my silly little short stories see the light of day ( although that prospect scares me, as I’ve never been confident in my writing abilities). Yet another little voice tells me to forget that and begin building my dream Tiny House. In the interest of having something to leave my kid, I feel that I need to knuckle down and focus on building up my -as yet meagre- savings. So maybe I’ll have to muster up some extra self discipline ( ugh ) and try to overcome my fear that I might not actually have enough talent to get by at all ( double ugh ) and just get my arse into gear and make, make, make. For better or for worse. Because like it or not, I really have nothing other than creativity to offer at this late stage- whether anybody wants what I’m offering or not.
I don’t really know what else to say for now. If anybody has bothered reading this far, they’re likely shaking their head by now and thinking ” what a complete nutbar this chick is!”. And if that’s the case, oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time somebody wrote me off as a crazy bitch. If I’ve alienated anyone, then so be it. I’m sick of censoring myself. I can’t make anybody care about the things I say or do. Nor can I stop anyone from thinking what they think or feeling what they feel. All I can say is that I’ve been sitting on these feelings for a while now, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a sense of relief for having gotten all this off my chest. Hey- maybe I’m wrong about everything I’m feeling, and this is all just Depression talking. Time will tell, I suppose. But from what I’ve seen and heard on various online platforms lately, I’m not the only one sensing that perhaps the human species and its selfishness, greed, and refusal to learn from the past is fast approaching its use-by date.
Speaking of use-by dates, I’m not sure what to do about this silly blog. None of my many blogs over the years have ever lasted long. I don’t think I’m a natural blogger, or communicator in general. I always worry that anything I say here- or anywhere, for that matter, will be misinterpreted due to my inability to clearly articulate my thoughts and feelings. So I overcompensate; over-explain….and in the process end up coming across as confusing as I tried not to be. I read over the things I’ve written and cringe. In the end it all becomes too much of a headfuck and I throw in the towel. It’s not like the energy couldn’t be redirected into something more useful and practical.
Sigh. I dunno. Maybe I’ll post some visual Art or something soon. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I won’t bother at all and will choose to just quietly fuck off. Some of us just don’t have a niche in this world and truly do not belong. It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. Life is just a short, weird, confusing, dream. Ultimately it means fuck-all. All I can hope is that some sort of clarity awaits upon waking.