february 6 2024

mediations on pain

i’m doing deep work, my therapist tells me.

deep breaths in and out, i lean my head back and let it hang. pre-historic melodies escape from my throat and i howl in ancient languages at the setting sun. millions of women stretch out their etheric hands and lay them on me. so much pain lives in the body. it’s a miracle, really.

and it hurts. 

growing up hurts and it’s supposed to. this is the balance of life and the meaning of it as well. you need equal parts gold to shit or else the entire ratio is all off and the natural world explodes and the universe ceases to exist. i don’t want to cease to exist but when it hurts this bad, i consider it.

i feel like i’ve been in utero all winter and now, somehow, i’m the one birthing these bitches. and by bitches, i mean a deluge of creative material. i write all day, i can’t help myself. i see the end of my next film in my mind. i’m making songs again. it’s taking over my entire life. i know this is the natural order of things and i know that something somewhere has to die and somewhere something is being born but man, it doesn’t get any easier.

i wake up in the morning and go get a facial. it’s the kind of facial where they burn off the entire top layer of the skin on my face. it is the most physically painful thing i have ever experienced and i walk out of the spa smiling, beaming. i’m on one. i don’t give a fuck!!! ok!!! i think it is better to face pain head on even when you are scared, even when it is never ending, all consuming, snarling, imminent, diamond-encrusted laser tip technology. i am brave and determined and stronger than any pain. i am elastic and lithe and rhythmic. i take back my gentleness by force and by fire. i am the deepest layer of the earth. i am the diamond. i am the pressure, bitch.