april 30 2024

I’m taking ashwaganda again so I can focus on the task at hand. I will not be a prisoner to the whims of my luteal phase. I have an album to finish. This is what feminism is about.

I can’t bite my nails so I eat a whole bag of Twizzlers in an hour. Normal. I skulk out into the street and buy another. I donate to Wikipedia in between studio sessions. I check my horoscopes. I check my lover’s. I suffer in my imagination but reel it in before it starts getting in the way. I subsist on bone broth and a single scrambled egg. I play the same song 13 times in a row. I read somewhere that people high in neuroticism worry even when there is nothing to worry about. And there is nothing to worry about but I still grind my teeth in my sleep.

I go to pilates everyday. I make TikToks talking about nothing important and don’t post them. I can’t stop sneezing so I take a Sudafed. I think about how close pain is to pleasure. It’s Angie’s birthday so I gift her a bouquet of flowers as big as her heart. I come home. The smog outside is thick and yarn-like. I go to bed and dream about a woman in a remote, Polish village. I wake up only once in the middle of the night.