i can’t remember the day for the life of me. have to remind myself every few hours that today is thursday, not tuesday. can’t forget i have an appointment with my psychiatrist on monday.
i’ve been listening to some rap songs [earl sweatshirt’s new album] to pass the time. for some reason, once it gets to “the mint”, i just sort of tune out the album until “playing possum”. this album epitomizes the jazz/hip-hop duality of pure hypergalactic music. pitchfork gave it an 8.8. i’d give it a 9.2, not that anyone asked.
my laptop keys are sticky. i still dont know what to make of ye. yeezus was the first album of his i was really aware of. i knew he did work for jay z but i was too young to think of him as a celebrity. i first heard black skinhead at a school assembly oddly enough, and i loved it. “new slaves” honestly was one of the biggest catalysts early on for me becoming an anarchist “”. i was something of a bourgeois socialist before that (or at least one in the making). even today, hearing the first few seconds of “on sight” gets me hyped to tear shit down. “bound 2” leaves me yearning for a liberated future where our biggest worries are what Jerome might think and where we can love unconditionally (sometimes i wonder what would happen if we were all just friends). but he’s changed. does that mean i should stop stanning him? maybe, but i don’t know. maybe i should stop dreaming of rocking yeezy outfits, and maybe i shouldn’t use kkw body. but i can’t help but wish the best for ye and his family. i can’t help but want to see him succeed. he’s got me sporting adidas shoes and writing about vanessa beecroft and virgil alboh, but now i listen to JPEGMAFIA and pinkcaravan! and pray I never go “blonde like Kanye”.
sometimes i just get on twitter and worry about what the fuck i got myself into. between vitalist international and r/acc, there’s no happy endings. i wanna see my follower count grow but i wonder what the point is. i think i just want to be heard but i’m afraid i have nothing worth being heard. all i’ve got are a few expansions of obscure concepts like sun ra’s intergalactic music (which i call hypergalactic music) and nick land’s inhibited synthesis (what i prefer to call neo-colonialism). the real question is why would anyone care to hear my specific take on sun ra or nick land when there are already 50 others out there. i’m just not sure exactly what value i add to the equation. though, i’m sure there’s got to be some value i add, else i likely wouldn’t be speculating on these things. but still. what the fuck did i get myself into.
i had to delay an interview with juliana huxtable because i ended up in the hospital. i need to reschedule but first i need to rewrite some of the questions since it was very “2018 in review”. i really feel like shit for having to postpone it but i understand a skype interview can be easily scheduled. its just still very daunting for me. i’m blessed that she’s willing to be interviewed by me, lord knows why, but i just still feel so anxious doing anything “professional”. i find it hard to believe anything worth reading/consuming/sharing can be produced by my body. i wanted to start a podcast called “the dance of anxiety” (a phrase i stole from the anti-oedipus papers) to highlight that this anxiety is something most producers deal with, but i never actually performed the dance, so the podcast never got made. maybe that’ll change. i have this fantasy that i could start a podcast still.
i bought a hundred year old first year latin book with the hopes that i could use it to start learn latin, but i barely have the motivation to do the first chapter of exercises. i just want to get back to a place where i can sit down for more than 20 minutes are read something calmly. [trigger warning: sexual assault, r*pe] i’ve been on edge since may (since i was r*ped). honestly kanye-produced albums dropping every week was the only way i made it through that month, i at least had something short term to hold onto and to give me something to look forward to. since then i’ve relied on adderall and acid to give me the concentration to make it through a book. i worry i won’t ever be the same. everything changes when you go through extreme trauma. its not like i don’t have experience with CSA. years of abuse i went through. but somehow then i was able to learn and grow through all of that. maybe just because i thought that what i was going through was normal and not something to think about or consider as unusual. now its all i can think about some days. i can’t even escape it in my dreams. i’m woken up by nightmares at 3am regularly. suffer through sleep paralysis, trying my best to scream for help without being able to open my mouth or move, forgetting i dealt with this just three days prior. i’m getting really tired of going through this shit and therapists not recognizing the way my trauma has impacted my life. fuck CBT. i really wish i could see a psychoanalyst, stop fucking around with these useless “cognitive behavioural therapists”. every time i try to criticize their modality i have to argue with the therapist or psychiatrist half an hour about why CBT isn’t prepared to deal with me. but kaiser doctors just aren’t willing to listen to me. they treat me like just another crazy patient that doesn’t know what’s best for them.
i really want a blueberry muffin. i give glitter by 070 shake a 7.0. the album is calming and the first two tracks bump, but i’ve read 070 shake at one point googled “drake type beats” and as a project it sounds like a generic hip-pop daze. as far as eps go, its not my favourite.
my greatest work will forever be my facebook profile picture.