march 19 2025

I’m laying on the couch in my analyst’s office and trying very hard to not feel guilty. I’m trying very hard to tell the truth. 

“Do you feel that the two are mutually exclusive?” she asks me. I glance at the little clock on her desk then close my eyes and think about it.

“No…but sometimes the latter precedes the former. When I tell the truth, I feel guilty. Like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to be doing, something that will eventually hurt me.”

“And does it?”

“No…not really…Not in the grand scheme of things.”

A pause.

“Actually, never,” I spit out.

There is silence between us. And it’s the day before my new single comes out. I haven’t released music in almost a year. So much has happened. So much is still changing.

I guess, I guess, I guess.

I tap my foot for some movement and bite my nails to feel something. My mouth fills with the taste of plastic - acrylic and shellac polish. I look and I look and I look but I don’t know what is going to happen. 

I’ve emptied my shell of my being in several airports and haunted hotel rooms. I’ve pressed my heart into 12-inch coloured vinyl variants. I’ve given tears and fears and sweat and regret. I’ve lit it all up. And I want things to be different this time.

I want to be raw and brave and special. I want a whole new life, something rare and true. A lot of people would say that that’s my problem. That I want too much. And yes, it’s true. I want a lot but I believe I should and will have it because why not? Why not I, this serious woman? Why not I, The [redacted] Of The [redacted] Of [redacted]?

I close my eyes and try to feel the tectonic waves of the Earth come up through my feet. I see water and earthquakes and wifi signals, everything criss-crossing back and forth. I see mud and airplanes and the end of myself, soft and free.

The hour is up and I decide to walk home. It is bright and balmy in Toronto. I think about what could happen.