ended up having a housemates movie night watching the show I’ve been binging—one is trans, the other is an elder activist, and the show hits on themes about both. it was a beautiful day: four hours of sleep (was mopping and emptying trash until 3:30am then woke at 8:45am to catch a bus to meet a friend for breakfast 10 miles north; upon returning, sang in a church parking garage then did a baseball pitching and fielding workout) — vibing with the slowness of the blinking cursor, and the lack of urgency to say anything online or to people in my life; enjoying my psyche and silence, but I suppose I’m now trying to break down that distance between me and you/others and have a sort of communion ~ one thought i had watching the show was “i miss family,” specifically: being in space and time, speaking before several people with whom I have a specific 1:1 relationship, and being heard, received; I don’t have family here and haven’t seen my family in over a year; we talk 1:1 in siloes; as the only child of divorced parents, this has become what I expect out of life: my private communion with God is private and will not be witnessed by a collective; community is a buzzword, a product that is sold, a mirage that eventually evaporates, and we’re left with materialist object relations: people, brands, labor, contracts; but there is brotherhood and camaraderie in the workplace—I’m not lying when I say it’s a fraternity of door guys on Sixth Street; it’s true that my Buckshot shirt is a recognized insignia and sigil that grants me special privileges and is an automatic "card” in the sense of “card-carrying member of the east coast elite,” a line I have in my book somewhere. anyway, this 22-minute audio felt good and i believe is good (i can only judge by the memory of the experience of the feeling of flow and truthfulness i had on the porch just now; rain and birds are a sure-to-please consolation prize for those special individuals who are lovingly sick of my bullshit)
the facts won't make you happy