been thinking a lot about artistry. what im doing with this blog. what im doing with music. its not enough to just do it, there has to be a reason. and then, a calming thought, that i should just focus on enjoying it. so true. but a project makes you beautiful.
where do i put my thoughts now? i think its corny to call songwriting an "outlet" but the sentiment is real enough. im so fucking mad, at certain things, people. yelling about it is nice, actually. and they say my shouting is good. its hard to know what to make a lyric, what to send blog-wise, when to ever open up my journal, remembering that not everything has to be share-able, palatable, good. it's all different writing, stylistically, modally, and i feel that i could be a couple months away from figuring out exactly what goes into which channel. wouldn't that be nice? knowing. unlocking the god-given system of it all. pretending successfully that one exists. there's still so much Thought occurring to me on the daily. that hasn't stopped. neither has the guilt of letting lots of it die.
im back on long island and noticing a bunch of crap like i knew i would. god. gender primarily, then race and class. cowardice. oops. i talk about these sorts of issues i take with my hometown cyclically, and it's about time i develop a section of the website to acknowledge such overarching themes. so many ideas about the shape that kateworld ought to take. my first non-moment-in-time doc made a few days ago, about things i believe. yesss. because ultimately this is for being known. for having a place to be.
as far as a single person's cope goes, i'm allowed to be semi-proud at this point. i've kept at it for years, migrated the platform twice (tumblr and wordpress predecessing), and will soon have something to show for all my blab. this is similar to how good art goes, i've found. take geese, for instance (hahahaha-- ok.) they blew up with 'getting killed,' their third alb, but when people such as myself found themselves really fuckin' with 'taxes', they had so much to gorge a new interest on-- '3d country' and '4d country', preceding alb and ep. good artists do it for a while for the love of the thing. and should a noticing come, later, all that previous hard work stands the tests of evaluation. hot shot i appear to be. hot shot i've been scared of admitting i'd like to be before.
so, so, so many fewer things matter than i've ever seen before. welcome! i say to me.
i could write a paragraph on alvin and the chipmunks right now but i should actually rewatch before i start.
told some old friends recently that i've got theory of mind problems-- never put it that way before, but for a while have been bumping up against a genuine difficulty to imagine other people being different that me, or wanting different things, preferring else. a bunch of thread here: a) gets me feeling like people are lying, to themselves and others b) made it weird, for a while until i underwent dramatic growth and acceptance of my own failure to comprehend the world properly, to parent children c) ---ogbevrfovwberibjvwjrh~!!!!!!!!
not many can say this...pause for drama...i know what i want! very clearly, actually. a lot of people don't know themselves and as just expressed i cannot comprehend how that is but . well . ok. so we're being inundated with opinions, especially from social media (link) so knowing who to listen to or what to believe is a challenge, in terms of the creation of the self (link). having removed some of the noise(link), and always having been weird/black sheep-y, idk, also being a sort of obsessive person, i have reached an uncommon state of clarity for this age.
and here i am trying not to cry at the long, dark wood, scratched-up kitchen table, curled up in a matching chair with paint chippings that tell an obvious story... about the same old things, and my own naivite that they would never come up again-- even with everything changed, of course they would. my parents are great. and the divorce still ruins shit. family members on either side displeased with my half-complete presence at holiday dinners, constant worry about spending the right amount of time with mom, thinking i've got it right and being wrong...not yet an expert at expressing to my dad my intention to spend time with him, so he books with his girlfriend right in front of me-- then the twinge. not yet even good at saying why he's wrong, instead only able to say "it's my last night," and wonder aloud, genuinely, if i should be somewhere else. he ends up not seeing her; i am not relieved. only reminded of my disturbed pattern to love things that look elsewhere, fail to communicate my wants, end up forced to blame myself.