who???
journal entry 2024
we are soooooo back. if i say what that means, i’ll jinx it, but we are sooooooo back.
writing and publishing literally anything at all (even if it’s just this little diary entry) feels like a big accomplishment. we are soooo back just because i hit post.
oh….writing…something i allegedly love but never seem to do.
i have kind of hated the way i’ve written lately (always written?), but i’ve now kind of given up on this idea i’ve held about what “professional” “writing” should be. i don’t think i’ve ever quite found a consistent voice when it comes to writing… i spent so much time writing phoned-in essays for $40 on fiverr that it seeped into my “style.”
i have this very strict idea of what “published” writing is and should be, and that holds me back big time. and besides, there’s a time and place for Respectable Writing, and i think my personal substack - which will never be a primary source of income for me - should not be bound by those expectations.
i get so hung up on formalities and “marketing,” and for what?? it’s made the whole thing infinitely less fun. i’ve got nothing to prove and hardly anywhere to promote what i write anyways, now that “twitter” is mostly bots. so why not just do whatever i want? throw it all out there and see what actually makes me feel good to write/make/whatever??
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i’ve spent so much time trying to figure out what other people would want to read instead of what i want to write…
a lot of my hang-up is the result of some weird identity crisis, an arbitrary need to fit myself into a specific box. i feel like i need to watch a very specific brand of movies all the time so that i can write about them. i feel like i need to “optimize” my time by making sure my hobbies all adhere to a personal brand, and thus a “brand” of writing. very silly!
but no one is putting this pressure on me. only i am putting this pressure on me. and it only makes it so i engage with my interests significantly less…and then have less to write about.
do you do that? do you worry that you aren’t “you” enough? i’ve been trying to figure out what “me” is - i always thought i was just, “mentally ill” “likes movies” “writes” “has low self-esteem” “perpetually online.” i thought those were the things i needed to be in order to be. i’m trying to (blegh) find myself and figure out who i am beyond the way i defined myself over a decade ago.
a definition that, i’ve come to realize, was maybe never correct in the first place. a lot of the things i thought i knew about myself are constantly being challenged these days. like…
“mentally ill” - i’ve been working on better managing my mental health for a long time and i’ve kinda got this shit on lock. i’m not horrifically depressed and i don’t have panic attacks all the time any more. this has challenged my entire perception of myself. i have so much more room to love and enjoy. i mean, i’ve always loved and enjoyed, but now i get to actually feel it.
“likes movies” - this is still true, but it’s different now. i was using movies to explore pain and feelings that i repressed, but now i don’t think i have to do that. at least not to the same degree. i know how i feel about things now, i don’t need to watch the bleakest movies in the world to try and uncover it.
“writes” - this must evolve into something new. i cannot write just because i’m “supposed” to. it’s not something that i have to do. i can do it, or i can not do it. it won’t change who i am. i am more than what i do, really! we are more than hobbies and interests. what else is in there? i can write until i find that out. or not!
“has low self-esteem” - okay but what if i didn’t!!!!!!!!!1
“perpetually online” - not anymore!!! lately i am blissfully unaware of whatever is going on online. twitter is boring, and i haven’t bothered to replace it. i go on instagram and watch alt comedians and like pictures of my friends. i avoid tiktok because it kept showing me deeply upsetting things, and it turns out that i can choose not to expose myself to those things. i didn’t know who hawk tuah girl was for like, three weeks. it ruled.
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so back to my original question: what do i like to write?
my favorite stuff to write has always been rambling letterboxd reviews. i think a lot of those are the best stuff i’ve written. it’s also the stuff i like to read from other people the most. off-the-cuff and personal, a knotty exodus of feelings that have been bottled up and finally unleashed in the review section of freddy got fingered. stuff that gets sent out into the world, no algorithmic interference no tagging no promotion, not even indexed by google. and if someone sees it, they see it; if they don’t, they don’t. the kind of writing that can only be stumbled upon, not sought out.
i have also loved doing interviews. i like collaboration much more than i anticipated. writing can either be an insular self-absorbed thing (like most of what i write on here :3) or it can be something that people shape together. i’ve loved doing interview pieces on musicians, because after i’ve talked to the artist, the piece ends up going in a direction i never would have expected. they shape the articles more than i do. that’s so cool - i like feeling like i’m a messenger for someone much more interesting.
and i like editing other people’s articles. i like shaping other people’s writing into something a little firmer, and handling all the pesky linking and formatting so that they can focus on the actual artistry of it all.
what’s my point? my point is that maybe if i let it go, i’ll be good. if i stop wondering what my pen name should be, how often i should post, who i should be…then i can just be. it doesn’t matter anyways. i’m gonna stop shaving my armpits i think. maybe i’ll start getting into hats. maybe i’ll get a second job. maybe i’ll take pictures of that abandoned bank building like i’ve been planning to. who knows. whatever i choose, i’ll still be me.
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watchin’
coreys - dan strait (new short starring connor o’malley. corey is the type of mf to watch john krasinski cia movies instead of talking to his wife. fun to see him suffer in his mediocrity)
eileen - william oldroy (milquetoast otessa mosfegh, didn’t have enough freaky masturbation)
readin’
parable of the sower - octavia e. butler. bookclub’d. fantastic but afraid to read the next book and be disappointed when there’s no more (butler passed away before she was able to write more in the series)
paradise rot - jenny hval. biohorror feminism yuri piss fiction.
listenin’
i want to eat lava and god cannot stop me - do you care? ep
Glad to hear from you again!