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i've been putting this blog off for a while know. i can't say quite why. it's that same feeling that you get when you open a new journal-- assuming you're like me in this way. you would think that the feeling goes away after posting enough blogs, but i guess not. i bet it doesn't help that i've had ideas of what i want to write about here for a little while now-- makes the possibility of fucking it up somehow feel even more real

i'm not really sure where to start, to be honest. i've been listening to a couple playlists on repeat lately-- one with some slow punk rock & grunge and another with really fast, hardcore punk rock. as i'm writing this, though, i'm listening to x's los angeles. it's one of my favorite albums recently. i love angry punk, but i feel like their voices in this album give me something close to anguish and it's so fucking cool

to be honest, the album feels kind of country to me, too? i don't know how to describe it-- it's just kind of adjacent in energy to amythyst kiah and other artists like her in my eyes

side tangent: it makes me sad that people so readily discard country as a genre. i think people forget it has roots in labor movements and revolutionary thinking and, like most amerikan music, was stolen from Black and poor people. i wish people would take a chance and listen to actual country instead of just rich white men cosplaying as blue collar before saying they hate it. if i didn't know better, hating country as a default would feel a little classist. hm...!

anyway, i also made a fairly weird playlist, recently-- for a class of mine, actually. it's one of those playlists that does Not work if you listen to it out of order, and i can't quite tell if i like it honestly, but it's definitely interesting. i called it break out the box (something something liberation something revolution and community). here's the link if you want it

i'm liking this poem i wrote about the playlist cover [also for the class] much more than i like the playlist for now. it's not the most polished, but i really just love how i played with enjambment in it. pretty proud of it, especially for a five minute poem. this is it-- very untitled at the moment:

i choose a playlist cover–
palestinian freedom fighters,
reading mao, all lined up
side by side, brothers
in arms, wishing:
they were just
brothers, wishing:
for a calm day to drink,
eat: every good food they know,
but they miss living more,
wishing for loving
that doesn’t mean mourning–
fighting; knowing it can be,
knowing this does not need
to be the end, knowing
that we have nothing to lose
but our chains and the dead
that would die– we would mourn–
anyway, and that we will be free
if it’s the last thing we will ever be

i'm finding it hard to really feel the holidays right now, with this ongoing genocide weighing so heavily on our world's shoulders. it's painful in so many ways. i found this instagram post, though, about feeling more as opposed to feeling better, and it's guiding me through. here's the link if you're interested

on a different but similar note about getting through, i started going to a new therapist with a pain psychology clinic, and it's pretty interesting. the first little assignment she gave me was to focus on positive sensations-- both internally and externally created-- and to let myself take advil if i need to. external positive sensations are easy, but finding any positive internal sensations has been weirdly hard, so i'm having to settle for neutral internal sensations

as for the advil, i usually avoid taking it because i like to try and solve the pain i'm feeling by addressing the root cause if i can (dehydration, minimal sodium intake, hunger, whatever), but i wonder if part of the reason i don't take it is pride, too. wanting to address the root cause can't account for the times i sit in bed with a headache and don't get up to do anything at all about it, you know? some sort of weird self-punishing behavior, maybe-- or i'm just exhausted and executive dysfunction-ridden. who knows?

either way, it's already surprisingly difficult, and i'm interested to see how she'll push me to do [or at least try] things differently

i've been coming back to this interesting piece about stoking the fire of our endeavors and ambitions instead of either waiting for inspiration to spike or forcing ourselves to do them despite not wanting to-- of course, here's the link in case you want to check it out

i have thoughts on the piece that i'd love to share, but i think i need to take time to really process it first. i'd love to hear any of your thoughts if you'd like to share, too, of course. the first thing that came to mind for me, though, was that i completely forgot people can actually force themselves to do things they don't have to do

one of my greatest flaws as a capitalist, if i were to be one, would be/is my absolute inability to motivate myself outside of interest in a topic. other things can totally motivate me [the need for good grades, for example, or the hope of getting something published], but i've never been someone who can really make myself just sit down and write or practice an instrument if i don't want to and there's not an external pressure

it got me thinking about how we motivate and celebrate each other and, to awkwardly bridge to another topic entirely, about the language we use when we do. in particular, i remembered two things. the first is a book called metaphors we live by written by both george lakoff and mark johnsen, which i really recommend you give a read or at least a skim. the second is how ocean vuong [whose poetry, i regret to say, i do not enjoy, though why is a topic for another time] talked about the same issue that lakoff and johnsen did when he was on late night with seth meyers

to quote him,

In this culture, we celebrate boys through the lexicon of violence. 'You're killing it.' 'You're making a killing.' 'Smash 'em.' 'Blow 'em up.' 'You went into that game guns blazing.' And I think it's worth it to ask the question: What happens to our men and boys when the only way they can valuate themselves is through the lexicon of death and destruction? And I think that when they see themselves only worthwhile when they're capable of destroying things it's inevitable that we arrive at a masculinity that is toxic.

when i think about how we fall back on pushing through the pain of finishing endeavors we're supposed to feel passion and joy toward or at least care about until we hate them, i think of this. the language of ambition and drive disregard the love that should be so integral to it all. it's sad to me that those words often bring to mind images of people working, working, working and never resting-- slaving over something to make it happen, even if it drains every bit of fulfillment from it-- becoming the tortured artist

this is coming to me as i'm writing it, but i guess that brings me back to why it was so hard to take the jump and write this blog. maintaining a blog is something i've wanted to do for a while, and even as i felt guiltier and guiltier for not posting anything, i avoided pushing through the pain of writing, waiting for inspiration. hopefully, in the future, i can learn to stoke the fire that is my will to write blog posts

i hope you're well, and taking care of yourself, and giving yourself grace where you need it

- xalli