latest journal entry

How do you really know who you are?

I don't know if I know the answer to that question. I want to think the version of myself that exists is alright. I think of myself like a project car in a way, the bones are there, it just needs a little work. At least I'm trying to do the work, that's what matters I want to think.

For the past two years, I've been living with a song lyric in my head

"when you don't know who you are

you fuck around and find out" - boygenius, true blue

For some reason, I always look to music for advice. But I've yet to find a song that tells me: At what point do you stop fucking around and just know intrinsically? Is there ever a point where you just know intrinsically?

Unfortunately, this is probably one of those areas where faith or something that I don't have yet is needed to figure out the answer. I wish “having faith” in something, in anything--but mostly in myself--was as easy as Chrsitians and mediocre white men make it seem.

I wish it was as easy as it was when I was a little girl watching Bible TV. I think at some point she thought that Jesus would save her because of it. But now I'm older, and I know I'm the only one doing any saving.

i'm not sure if I don't believe in a god

I think I turn to this site lately because I feel it's truly a place for me, whatever that actually means. Maybe writing is one of those things that still feels like it's my own. I love my art so much and so deeply, but sometimes it feels performative for an audience I don't even know. My art is so interconnected with so many other things, I believe it takes on a life of its own. In so many aspects of my life, I feel like I'm performing for some secret audience. Except my nervous system also thinks that performance is life or death.

I just want something sweet and calm, where I can let myself go and just be. I want to be all of me, the good parts and the bad parts, and be accepted for them.

I know that I am an imperfect person because perfection does not exist, it's unattainable, yet part of me sometimes thinks that it's only unattainable for myself, that everyone else has it so much more figured out than I do. I wish I had a better idea of what I was doing, of where I'm going. I feel like I'm just on a free fall trying to look for the occasional branch to cling to until it inevitably breaks. The branches will always break, and I know this, yet it does not make the reprieve from the fall any less so.