This year kicked my ass. Had many moments of the awful/wonderful realization that no outer experience, person or thing will bring me contentment. It comes from deep satisfaction with myself, but how the fuck do I accomplish that? I met so many amazing new souls this year, especially at the ecstatic dance gatherings I’ve been attending, where I experienced the previously impossible: sustained moments of a quiet and calm mind. I finished writing my novel. It’s not done, but it’s finished. Agents etc. think it needs another revision. I agree, but am finding it hard to write when I can barely keep my head above water (I’m looking at you, Kaiser and rent and inconsistent payroll and the $350 speeding ticket). I am single for the first time in 5 years. “Did you meet someone else?” “Yeah–myself.”
I’m considering buying two golden rings, one for each hand, and marrying myself to my art.
I’m trying to be a warrior of love. The first soldier to recruit is m-y-s-e-l-f.
“Highchair” by Autolux might be the best song ever.
Next year I really want to: wake up at the same time everyday, get better at drumming, start a webseries with my roommates, brush Chairman Meow and King Alobar more often, explore more of Koreatown, go see Beva in Greece, manifest someone giving me a camper for creative retreats, be more diligent about backing up my laptop, build my photography portfolio, drink less wine and more water, eat more of the delightful magic mushrooms I’ve been enjoying since October, be a better listener, stay in more, kiss more, stretch more.
And pick more flowers.