The Cracks are Beginning to Show (Jackpot January #13)

I really don’t feel like writing today. Or rather, I don’t know what to write about. This whole ‘daily posts for a month’ thing felt like a good idea when I first thought of it, but now it just feels like an idea. A thing I’m doing.

I’m still enjoying myself but what of it? My intention wasn’t to write journal entries for a month, I already have a journal for that. Oh well. Here are some thoughts:

• I got some laundry out of the dryer a few minutes ago. I saw how caked the dust filter was from just one medium-sized load, and thought about how much of myself I shed onto everything I touch, into all of my clothes, on a daily basis.

• Earlier today I was invigilating an exam and thought about how, if they really wanted to, the ten teenage students in my room could just get up from their desks and beat me to death. I was the sole invigilator, the only adult in the room. Nothing was stopping them from killing me that instant, which just doesn’t seem safe.

• On Sunday I saw a boy I’m fond of (who may read this) and had a really good time. Another guy messaged me earlier today. When I was younger, I was so desperate to be with anyone but now I really like being alone and don’t feel like I need anyone else. I used to think that people who said that were lying to themselves, but it feels pretty true to me these days. For most of my life, I saw myself as an other-oriented social butterfly. Now I don’t know how to feel.

• I felt really pretty all day today, even more than usual.

• ‘Cannon March’ by Ohbijou is so beautiful in that way where you forget about it for years but it always swoops back in and overwhelms you. The music video for Johnny Cash’s ‘Hurt’ stops me in my tracks, makes me feel ready to be old.

• I get a lot of pleasure out of things, love to be sad, and fail to be hopeless.

• Sometimes I have these fleeting moments where I know who I am. These little morsels help distract me from the overall starvation.