I lost my voice for like a week and a half? I’m not really sure if it’s back to be honest. I kept writing and everything would get sunk into my drafts folders. I hate when that happens, but I’ve also gotten used to it. Eventually it comes back around, if I keep looking for it. In the meantime I did shrooms (4 capsules at 8:30am on a Sunday morning) and smoked a ton of weed this week. The stoned brain energy might play out in this entry.
I’m an asshole when it comes to writing. I get really judgmental of other people’s writing and more often than not, sometimes use it as a way of judging their entire existence. There’s a really embarrassing nudity that comes with writing that is almost impossible to escape. Your thoughts, the terrible ideas that you carry around with you, are laid bare for everyone else to pick through and analyze. It’s probably a waste of my time to judge someone else’s writing though, mine is pretty deeply flawed.
I’ve also gotten really into the idea of self mythologizing. I think with social media we’ve gotten used to telling the story of who we are, over and over again. It lets us lean into narratives of victimhood, power, etc. I worry about my writing a lot when I’m reflecting on self mythologizing because I don’t know if my writing is an ode to myself? I think my shit tends to be pretty raw and open, but I get in my head over whether or not my blogs posts are the equivalent of another whiny person on instagram.
I guess this is what I’ve managed to squeak out today. It’s pretty underwhelming, and my head is still foggy from the weed I’ve been smoking, but I’m glad to have something on the table. Things have been kinda heavy lately and I’m trying to skip the denser energies and get to the sweeter parts of life.
a soft death 