I've been racking my brain. I'm a detective. I collect clues. I look for hidden signs. I feel like this is the thing about being into Astrology. I see constellations. I notice patterns. Last night I felt pretty rough, underslept. I felt exhausted. I did my usual Saturday routine: I went to the gym and I got a smoothie and I went out for dumplings and I went window shopping. I saw that famous clothes designer Raf Simons while I was out browsing. I came home to nap and I felt awful, really exhausted. I rallied with my buddies downstairs and we got quite a bit turnt and went out to this new headshop. Paps had seen they had a kitten and so she'd been hanging out there and we went and met the kitty, her name is Yemen. We went out to a bar in Bushwick to celebrate Anthony's birthday, it was cute. Max B. and some friends were there, we had fun. Someone mentioned this guy-- had we heard of him, was he cool. He was my ex, I guess. I could have kept my mouth shut but I didn't. And I feel only a little guilty. Not for hating him or that not being a secret about me but just for, I dunno. Admitting it. He admits it, to everyone (our other friend present seemed to know). It's just like oh yeah, him. I never thing about it and didn't today.
The night before, I had gone out to see Ben's fantastic new one-man show, a work in progress about struggling with money and desire and power and identity, and it was so great. Really fantastic and smart and exciting and timely and engaging and heartbreaking. I'm so excited for the show to actually happen, which it will happen at the end of the summer. Afterward I went out for a drink with Mike and Jill and PLD. Then I headed downtown to see Cole Escola's new show at Duplex, which was totally awe-inspiring and hilarious and nuts. I'm so inspired and excited by Cole's work. I think history will show that Cole is really one of the smartest and most creative minds working in New York performance, cabaret, theater, etc. He's on some totally futuristic level. It's really fantastic to see. After the show we went to Boiler Room and then to the Metropolitan and I hung out for a bit, all night. Kind of awesome and kind of depressing.
Facing a lot of changes. All new room mates as of today, and my residency is ending and my zine is out. I wanted there to be more fanfare about these things, in a way, but I'm skeptical of that desire. Not like drama, but like... I wish I could find a way to acknowledge and live up to the chaos and weirdness I feel inside right now.
I guess I learned some things about myself this week. I'm a little (but only a little) more mature than I used to be, but I'm frustrated and perplexed by disappointment and rejection. And desire. I'm doing an excerpt/remix from ENCOURAGER on Friday night and I was watching the video of the show, to re-learn certain things. And I thought, wow, I was so nervous that night. I'm watching myself freak out. But I think I did a good job. I'm also struck by, how with ENCOURAGER but also MAPPLETHORPE, the task I set for myself was kind of about being crazy. I feel like I'm watching a crazy person. I did what I needed to do and I wouldn't take any of it back, but I'm just trying to find a way to neatly sum up this chapter. I needed to do some kind of weird and crazy stuff, I guess.
I thought I was much more patient than I am. I thought I was a lot more horrible, and ugly, and unloveable than I am. I thought I was definitely stupider than I probably am. I thought that if I didn't have it then it wasn't mine to have, that I didn't deserve it, and that lusting after it was just a form of delusion, of suffering. And it is, I stand by all that. But, I don't know. I guess I just didn't believe that I deserved to be a person, to be dynamic, to make mistakes, to change. I would counsel other people to be well-rounded, accept their flaws and their strengths. The artists whose work I really love, people like Kathleen Hanna, make artwork specifically and explicitly about being a real human being who changes their mind and thinks about things. I just couldn't let myself go there, I guess. But so then I feel like I made these things to find like a back door in. I was like: OK what would it look like if I really didn't have that and couldn't but had to do XYZ without it?
I went to the BBQ at Metropolitan by myself today. It was just okay. I saw some people I know and we said hi. I saw this guy I used to hang out with sometimes and he was with his much younger new boyfriend necking. I saw, like, one million gay dudes I don't know. Who cares. I feel like there's a lot out there but it's not "for me". I feel like I only want abstract things: Oh I wish I was the one he was texting late at night on Saturday night to come over and have sex with him. I think. I wish I was the one he was excited to see. I think I wish I was the one people couldn't get enough of. But I dunno. I kinda can't go there. I wish things were different, I guess. But I think that's silly: we're living in the best of all possible worlds. I wish I had a little bit more romance or something, I guess, in my life. I would not have admitted this any time in the last probably three or four years. But yeah. I dunno. It feels like admitting weakness, or defeat. And I'm so picky! What to do. It is summertime right now, though. After all. I just feel like I'm stuck in this rut of this same thing happening over and over. One time, many many years ago, when I lived in the other room in this apartment (so, I guess, 2005?) my homegirl Cotton was over and we were partying after I got off of work at my temp job, it was great. He'd have the party all laid out for me when I got home. We bought forties. And we met up with this guy I was kind of dating and went to the bar, and it was like, the guy was lovely but clearly a player and I was obviously clingy and nuts. And we got on the bus, but the guy didn't, he was like "I'll meet you there" or something, it was weird. And I said: "Cotton, what do you think he meant by that? Do you think he likes me or do you think he's just like... hanging out and getting off on the fact that I like him?" and Cotton said, very sagely as the way only she can: "I think the real question is: Why do you fall for guys who play games with you?" And she was so right. Not that people are playing games with me, but part of it is like, yeah, why do I put myself in these positions? It's hard to know what position you're in. I think it's always good to try. I think it's always good practice to tell someone how you feel about them (if you like them) and make yourself vulnerable. That's always a sum total good experience. But then it's like, I sometimes find myself (I've talked about this before) putting myself in these positions where it's like I'm being tested. Where I am constantly, like, trying to win someone or prove something or like be something. And that part sometimes sucks.
I was sad so I made this playlist with sad songs. All the ones I'm normally too scared to listen to because they're too sad. Sometimes it feels good though.
Thinking a lot about California. I'm planning a trip to the west coast later this summer.