6.11.2023 2:23 AM - part 2

I forgot to mention that I basically slept all day today - until 4 pm. I felt so bad for harry! He is so patient with me.

Back on the subject of New York - there is definitely an inherent evil here. The chaos of daily life has created this hostile environemt, which makes it impossible to enjoy your life unless you sell your soul. I have felt this evilness in my dating interactions as well. I think there's a reason why I have always been attracted to people /from/ new york. They stay here because it's home, and didn't move here for the sex, drugs, fame, money, and techno music. I am actually looking forward to leaving, the more I think about it. I have seriously been missing being around people who are grounded, and not loser yuppies. New York is actually very conformist, and I've decided that I never want to live a normal life. So I won't.

6.11.2023 1:54 AM

Hm! Been 10 days since I last wrote here.

Sara celebrated her birthday last night, Michelle is celebrating hers tomorrow. I should get her a gift or card or something, she always gets sweet little presents for me... gah! Sometimes I worry I'm a bad friend because I don't think of these things. I'll be DJing her party at the park tomorrow though, so maybe that will be enough! And she won't have 2 pay me. Yes that might work....

Last night Sara's party was at All Night Skate, a cute gay bar in Ocean Hill (basically Bed-Stuy/Brownsville). We didn't get to dance or anything, but I bought Sara some Cava wine (tasted just like chanpagne), I got a cocktail with gin and rosemary and citrus I think, + bud light and vodka shot x2. We sat in the upstairs loft, up a spiral staircase, and I got to meet her friends. They were all very sweet, mostly queer from what I could tell. I love being around other queer people! I feel like almost all my friends are straight and it can be hard to relate to that. We chatted about life, ate nachos and french fries. Around 12:30 it was time to go home, Sara was pretty drunk and ready for bed. I hugged her goodbye and she hopped in an uber with her roommate.

I told 2 of her friends who lived in Bushwick that I was going to Citibike home. They were down to citibike home too, so I walked with them to the neasrest dock. They let me get the last electric one. I kept on saying I was kind of "geeked", cause I thought it sounded funny to say I was "slightly geeked on a citibike". One of the people, Owen (nonbinary) - had little robbons and clips in their hair, just moved from LA. They were taking a long time to download the citibike app. I assured them you MUST have a citibike app in New York. How can you not! I asked them what they would say to a person living in NY about moving to LA. They said, "are you prepared to drive EVERYWHERE? are you prepared to have 0 spontenaity?" I was like, hmm. I'm not really spontaneous anymore anyway.... a lot of people seemingly recommend against moving to LA, I wonder if people say the same thing about New York? I might be getting biased answers about LA because I only talk to people who moved away from there to come to NY. Something to think about I guess.

I glided away on my ebike - Google maps took me on a slightly different route than I usually go (down the residential streets with the beautiful brownstones, where you can peek into the windows at nighttime). It took me more through Brownsville/Weeksville. It was a route I had gone before, nothing too strange. this is known to be the more dangerous part of crown heights. "kill em crown heights". a hood with a lot of trauma. I was stopped at a light, jamming out to Clairo, just kind of vibing on my bike. A group of 3 drunk girls were being really loud near me, I assumed they were just enjoying their night. All of a sudden, one of the girls walks into the street and comes right up in front of my bike. I can feel her pressing into my handlebars and leaning onto me, I can feel her soft sweatshirt. She's obviously blackout drunk. I can't tell if she's being friendly or what. She slurs something about her son, or nephew, in Syracuse... I don't know what to say, so I just say "aw". I forget what exactly happened immediately after that, but something shifted. It was bad. Thank GOD, the light turned green, and I was able to get away on my bike. She grabbed onto my jean jacket as I biked up the hill.

This particualr interaction was scary for a few reasons. If I had on a purse, or backback, it's possible she would have been able to get a better grip on me, and actually hurt me, which she seemed intent to do. But something told me to wear my fanny pack last night. If I had been on a regular bike, there's no way I would have been able to get away as fast as I did. It was on a hill, and citibikes are so heavy. She could have easily pushed me off.

During my whole process of moving out of my apartment I've been consistently ambivalent. I'm scared to give up such a beautiful aparmtment, and I'm worried I won't be able to find another place in new york with the current market, which is so insane rn. I took this interaction as a sign that it's time to leave for good.

6.1.2023 1:18 AM

Another night thinking about romance. It's hard to be productive with puppy around these days - he needs lots of attention - but I'm trying my best. Getting ready for the zine fair on sunday. All my clothes are dirty dirty dirty. Need to move out of the apartment AND the studio. Matilda's room is empty. Rent is due. Don't have it! Whoops.

Should I fall in love again? Should I let myself? It feels impossible to fall in love in New York City. I've never been in love here. I've had sex, sure. I was in love with Wyatt the summer he lived in Bushwick (2015?). He couldn't bring himself to say it. Was def sleeping with other girls. Probably doesn't count.

Plenty of acomplished people fall in love. It's not too distracting. It can be nourishing. I only want to fall in love if it nourishes me. Makes my life better. And I don't want to look. I want them to find me. To reach out and touch me.

Every time I move into an apartment I wonder, will I fall in love here? Will they move in here with me? And it never happens. I never invite anyone back for sex. Maybe only once or twice. I spend my nights alone. It's ok. I know what it's like to be in someone's arms. The emptiness when they're not there. I just hug my other pillow and it works just fine.

5.30.2023 1:39 AM

I've been keeping this online journal for about two years now. It makes me feel fucked I still haven't been in a relationship. (actually - in retrospect - I don't think I was journaling around the time me and Ian dated oct-dec 2021. until 1 week afer I got fired!!! w.e. he does not count.). It seems like another year keeps passing me by, and there's no one to fall in love with. I had to spend a lot of time healing after a series of toxic relationships: beginning, I suppose, with Liam cheating on me, escalating to the shittiness of Chris, awfulness of Ryan, horridnesss of Wyatt, escalating to the sheer horror and toxicity of a person like Matt. Like a fucked chain of dominos. And I suppose I've been fucked since then.

I mean - I'm actually fine, now. The last person I had sex with - Ali - was completely harmless. Very nice, albeit kind of weird. Completely lost touch with him, too. I actually just checked, and he soft blocked me on Instagram..... that's kind of sad. I mean, whatever. I deserve better than that. I knew that wasn't going to lead anywhere meaningful. Whatever.

And then a while back we had Aliya, which was shitty, because she never felt the same way I did about her. And was in denial that we ever hooked up, or had a romantic relationship. She still keeps in touch. I guess we're cool.

And then - the more fucked advancements - me lowkey being obsessed with Adam last summer. I alwayssss had a crush on him. Ever since I met him around late 2017 when he was working at Retrosuperfuture. Even though /he/ started flirting with me initially, he asked if I wanted to video chat with him (under the guise of a coding project), and we did for a few hours. He was clearly horny, and I was like okkkk bye. Talk later ~ Only for me to find out through Instagram he totally had a girlfriend! The crush eventually subsided. I had ambivalent feelings about the situation, which made me feel like I was still kind of fucked - having feelings for a guy with a girlfriend. Eventually that died. He still watches my stories sometimes. It seems like he's maybe single again. The spark is gone there.

And then we have Sean - who I've never actually /met/, but I guess we do have mutual friends. I've admired his photography for /years/, and always thought he was so cool. I loved getting attention from him. He would like my stories, so I slid into his DMs, asked him to hang out. He brushed it off, but he still seems to initiate flirting with me. I was thinking of him the other week, and he told me he was listening to my radio show. Of course he does have a girlfriend too - but I didn't find out until a few days after Valentine's day. After I was already starting to feel things. It's so unfair!!! We spent one late night messaging over Instagram... so late, I accidentally slept in the next day. He seems unhappy. it seems like he still feels something for me too, like he's pining for more attention, now that I'm not giving him any more. I hate when boys do this. It makes me feel like a toy.

I paid $60ish for Hinge (lol) which has been kind of annoying to use. It mostly makes me annoyed with the dating pool in NY. On the bright side, my lack of romantic prospects makes it perfect for me to move away and start fresh. Yay.

5.30.233 1:14 AM

Matilda is moving back to Italy tomorrow. Then it'll just be me and Harry in the apartment for the next month. Everything shifting.

NYC isn't cool to me anymore. And maybe it hasn't been cool for a while. When I moved here, the fashion and music scenes seemed so shiny and new. Past the saturation point of 2010s DIY, but the spirit of it was still fresh enough to leave a mark. The underground DJ scene was introduced to me by accident. 8 ball was sill an underground, secret space. If you knew you knew. Now everyone knows! And all the losers are coming back to the city in droves. The ones who left when it was convenient. Now everything's too expensive. And only the rich kids can have fun. And I'm in debt debt debt.

It's hard for me to imagine how radical scenes can thrive here anymore when you have to play by all the rules just to get by. If I want to continue living here, I need to get another full time job - probably in the fashion industry, which I've long since renounced. Part of me is afraid I've become directionless but I know I'm not! My aspirations are just no longer typical or normal. I never vibed with the corporate world. I've always hated conformity. I watched a documentary earlier about sororities in the south. Matilda asked if I'd ever done that. No! Of course not. I've always thought it was lame. The older I get, the more I realize my intital feelings about that sort of thing have been right.

I wish I could live in a place like Burlington again. Burlington, but not. A place where Ican bike to a swimming hole, or hike in the woods, spend more time enjoying life instead of wondering where my next paycheck is coming from.

I've been doing a lot of research on Asheville, North Carolina. And it seems really lovely. Like Burlington, but bigger. And in the south. Stephen is moving to North Carolina too. I'll still be 5 hours away from him (yikes, the south is really big!) but I can drive over in a day if I need to. Rent is still expensive, but definiely not horrible. Kind of like the prices in NYC during the pandemic. It could be a nice change, even if only for a little while.

5.24.23 12:25 AM

Lana Del Rey said she wanted to be arund other people that saw their life as a work of art. I want to live my life like it's a work of art. Romanticize everything.

Lush green farm town - just the beginning. College parties, sticky floors, smoking weed on the balcony, slipping on ice. Folding clothes, listening to my ipod, running home to my apartment to have sex with my boyfriend on my mattress on the floor. Motorcycle drives. Biking to the lake, jumping in the water naked. Getting an internship with a floral designer. Getting an office job in New York, taking the subway every day. Skateboarding downtown, drinking tallboys, skinned elbows, gallery shows. Parties parties parties. Rooftops. Drumming in the basement studio, scary floods, more beer, more cigarettes. Radical politics, protests, empty streets. Drunk DJ sets in Madrid. Skinny dipping in Mexico in the pool at the giant airbnb. Hurricane in Mexico, playing never have I ever at the hostel in the dark. Sex on the beach in Puerto Rico. Apartment with a big old pine tree out back, tiny puppy. Long runs.

5.24.23

I've pretty oficially decided to move out July 1. Looking back at my old entries it seems like I'd already decided a while back, but I finally spoke with my landlord today. My potential subtenant called to chastise me. I'm not even sure if it makes sense to have someone living here rn. I'm so bad at boundaries sometimes, I forget.

Part of me is sad and scared. Scared I'll get stuck, get depressed. I haven't had sex in like 6 months? What if I go a year without sex!? I'm also scared that I'll run out of money, which has already happened many times over. I'm living on borrowed time, and I can't seem to get motivated to do anything besides work on music. At least I'm motivated to do something.

A little piece of me running from new york feels like I maybe want to avoid my "normie" friends. I know it makes me seem ungrateful, to not want to be around my old friends who I've known for years, but sometimes it just feels like that nostalgia is the only thing we have going in our friendship. But it isn't necessarily a bad thing. But for example, if I had gone to Montreal instead with my artist friends, I wouldn't be as broke as I am rn. We wouldn't have gone to fancy dinner, my ideas for clubs or activities wouldn't have been shut down, or even the music I chose to play. I could have done a DJ set! You, dear diary, already know how I feel about the bachelorette thing. I wouldn't subject my friends to "something like that." But again... how ungrateful am I?! We went to a beautiful spa, got to honor a freidnship I cherish, laughed so much I don't know.... but my god, it was so expensive.

I just feel like I'm so focused on my career rn, but I feel like I can't be candid about my ambitions with some of my friends. I want to live and breathe my music and art, and I feel like I'm straddling 2 worlds. Maybe I'm making a fission where there doesn't need to be one, but I wanted to try to get my thoughts on "paper." Maybe it's the feeling like there's a part of me they don't fuly understand. The expectation in this life is to just get a job, follow along, do what you're supposed to do. I tried to be "normal" for a while, but I could never fit in!! I've always wanted to forge my own path. I always hated the systems we have in place in this life, I want to strive for something better, something different.

Of course I know my friends do wonderful things with their careers, and how they've found their place in the world. But I can't tell if they're truly happy. Some of them are, I suspect most of them aren't. I know that I was unhappy when I finally got everything I was supposed to have: the cool, talented boyfriend, the six-figure job, the beautiful apartment. It made me feel empty. Is that all there is? I wondered....

5.22.23

I cried on the phone to my parents tonight. I haven't found someone to take my apartment for the summer, and I am so deeply in debt after Marisa's bachelorette party in Montreal. And after taking 2 weeks off for Natasha's wedding. I feel so foolish, and angry that I have such a hard time saying no to these things. I thought I had gotten better at asserting myself, but I hate how weddings have conflated into this thing that measures friendship and love by how much money you spend. And a part of me, of course, hates how much we celebrate these things. Isn't it lucky enough to have found a partner that loves you and supports you? Now, I have to be dragged into all of this, and if I don't help put together the $70 goody bag, or pay for the $100 brewery tour, I don't care enough about you.

Lately I've been spitting lots of blood in the sink.

I feel foolish that my business isn't as successful as I hoped it would be. In my heart I know that all I secretly want to do is make music and be an artist, but I know that it appears to other people as impractical. But it's the only thing that makes me happy, and makes my life feel worthwhile. I know I just need to move home, and give up my studio, and sell my drum set, sell my couch, and all the beautiful furniture I've collected (but maybe not everything...).

After talking to Mom, I do feel better. She said that I'm putting too much importance in these things, and that change is good. She said she never knew anyone who had wished they stayed in an old apartment. The apartment isn't even that amazing anyway. Maybe I can find somewhere with a backyard, somewhere that people getting killed on the block in the summer isn't normal.

In my heart I do know it will all be ok. I can still keep my business, and keep my dreams alive. I can probably even spend more time writing music if I move home. I can use the money I make selling my old furniture to buy a guitar. If I don't have to worry about rent, I can use all the money I make to pay off my debt. I can be free.

5.8.23

Wow, getting a puppy was a lot of work! No wonder I haven't had a moment to write in 6 months :)

I've accomplished (I'm working to accomplish) a lot of my goals this year. Getting fired in 2021 was a blessing. I was looking at a spreadsheet regarding wage transparency for creatives, and sort of cerebrally realized for the first time that I was in the way-higher end of getting paid for my job. That was probably why I got fired - nothing personal, but kind of. This is something I've somewhat consciously known, that I'm one of the best at what I do - like, top 5%, at least. If you can put a numeric value to it. Maybe it's just my ego talking (of course it is). The fact that I've been able to accomplish so much in my previous career, in such a short amout of time, has given me the confidence to pursue what I really want to do. And I'm still under 30! Thank god. Lol.

I'm moving home for a little bit this summer to save money. I'm looking forward to waking up and putting my feet in the grass. Lush, green trees. Dad making coffee for me. Sleeping on the blow-up mattress in the living room. Going with mom to the organic herb farm. I don't wake up each morning filled with dread anymore. I think it's because I'm finally following my purpose and direction in life. Finally chasing my secret desires, that are not-so-secret anymore.

I've barely lived at home in the last 10 years - only the summer + autumn after graduating from college - trying desperately to find a job so I could move to New York. And then - the first few months after the pandemic began. Oh how I wish I kept a pandemic diary!

I used to be so afraid of forgetting, which was why I carried a camera with me everywhere. So often, that people would ask, where's that camera that's always around your neck? But the rolls of film began to build up, and now they're sitting under by bed, untouched, waiting for me to revisit when I have a calm moment. Lately I've been experiencing life as a would an acid trip, maybe. But even then I have the urge to write things down! Maybe experincing life more like a warm bath, letting it wash over me. Feeling the sun on my face. Waking up when Harry barks at my door. Taking a walk every morning.

Right now: I'm sitting on my green velvet couch. Harry is curled up on the end. Matilda and Ric are cuddling in the other room, door open. They're getting married soon. I made them matcha this morning. We've had the window open for the past 3 days. Finally comfortable enough to wear shorts and a tee. I had a dream last night I was in a futuristic airport, lost my luggage, but I didn't know where I was going.

12.13.22
I need to start a dream log. Quit pot, quit alcohol. Dreams are so vivid, I wake every morning and feel unrested. They call this period the "pink cloud."

Just got accepted to adopt a puppy. A pitbull mix. The sweetest face, you can hold him in one hand. My baby.

10.12.22
Haven't updated in a min. I started keeping a diary somewhere else - completely forgot I had this. Things have been good. When I think about it, I am happy. When I lie my head on my pillow at night I dream of desserts in white, fluffy clouds. The beaches of my dreams have been murky, littered with trash, hard to get to. Dreams of Puerto Rico, freash after the hurricane. Sex on the beach with Ali. Burned up knees.
Fresh after the hurricane, like a wound torn open. I feel guilty that it fills me with light. All this guilt is making me weirder. Making me want to hide.

8.9.22
when did I write that thing below? I think I was feeling a little crazy.

Went to the beach today with laura and jeremy. I wore a green dress and rainbow necklace I got at the farmer's market yesterday (along with tough, small, yellow donut peaches, juicy white peaches, apple muffin, apple cider, connecticut cheese - sat in prospect park afterward). jeremy was grumpy at the beach a little today. laura told me when we were by the waves it was because they got into a fight earlier that day. we took off our tops and ran around in the water. the waves were really strong at fort tilden - the water was warm.

texted someone I shouldn't have last night (4:23 AM). just now they texted me back. (1:02 AM). nighttime is the only time we talk. I figured out it's because they have a girlfriend. (that's what it seems like on instagram at least...) why do I do this???????

----

Tonight I find myself in a strange impasse. I considered, for the first time I think, leaving New York. For good! To go upstate! Crucify me.

It's the global health emergency... no, the other one. The one that you get from touching, most definitely from sex. But from kissing, too. At a rave, at a bar. Any contaminated surface?? Shit.

But that's what we do in New York, we touch each other. We hook up. People come from all over the world to fuck here. You can get away with all kinds of shit. Grab em by the pussy! "The Talented Mr. Epstein" (Vanity Fair). You get the idea. And yet...

My heart hurts as I think of Nowadays. Where I forged beautiful, sexy, toxic friendships that would last for years to come. All because of a love of underground house music. And drugs. We felt cool, different, and hot. Stabbed each other with emotional knives for no reason. I danced with my shirt off. It was all so sexy.

Thinking of this: falling in love for an hour on the dancefloor at Bossa Nova (head rushing from poppers) or Mood Ring or even Pony Boy (I made out with a super cute guy there just the other week!). The hot tub at Le Bain! Where you got naked and ate Nutella strawberry crêpes and looked at the stars. Now what?

Now every time I make out with someone I have to ask them if they've had sex with anyone in the last month. This is putting a tear in the entire social fabric of New York as I know it. (not that anyone will give a shit, people lie about things like that all the time). And I rarely have sex more than once a month. Anyway.

"Limited testing means those numbers are likely a significant undercount... And by now, monkeypox has spread widely enough in New York City that epidemiologists doubt it can be contained anytime soon."

R.I.P. reluctant single life in NYC 2016 - 2022. (more darkly, life in new york as we know it). For better, for worse? We'll see. Fuck around and find out, of course.