☆ mercurial musings ☆
3.11.23
today feels so long and it’s only 11:26 in the morning
the good things I said to myself yesterday about who I am still feel true today. that’s how it should be, no? the only thing that should be able to shift my self concept is me. at least that’s what I think. it’s nice when other people affirm certain things but even when they don’t, it’s ok.
I hope you feel good things about yourself, things that can’t be shaken or muddied by projection, and I hope that if those things ever stop feeling true, you give yourself the grace to rediscover.
the good things I said to myself yesterday about who I am still feel true today. that’s how it should be, no? the only thing that should be able to shift my self concept is me. at least that’s what I think. it’s nice when other people affirm certain things but even when they don’t, it’s ok.
I hope you feel good things about yourself, things that can’t be shaken or muddied by projection, and I hope that if those things ever stop feeling true, you give yourself the grace to rediscover.
3.18.23
thinking incessantly about the interlude on Yves Tumor’s “Echolalia”
‘So, it's like a circle, and I don't want anybody to depend on me. If you say you love me and you, like, your happiness only depends on me, it might not be true love. Maybe it's something you need and you want, but you think it's love, it's not love’
for a while, what other people called love just seemed to be an excruciatingly long and unbearable game of “who can depend on the other more?” or “who can suffer for the other the most?” why is how much a person is willing to shrink themselves or bend to the will of another such a universal measure for love? I don’t want anybody to depend on me to be happy or fulfilled. maybe I’m just jaded, I’ll report back later.
‘So, it's like a circle, and I don't want anybody to depend on me. If you say you love me and you, like, your happiness only depends on me, it might not be true love. Maybe it's something you need and you want, but you think it's love, it's not love’
for a while, what other people called love just seemed to be an excruciatingly long and unbearable game of “who can depend on the other more?” or “who can suffer for the other the most?” why is how much a person is willing to shrink themselves or bend to the will of another such a universal measure for love? I don’t want anybody to depend on me to be happy or fulfilled. maybe I’m just jaded, I’ll report back later.