hello void

hello void.

i am typing this post in mostly lowercase letters because: 1. chic acrylic nails 2. general laziness 3. I admittedly type with mostly two fingers anyway bc I hated typing class in elementary school and my whole life have been rebelling against what I felt was an oppressive five finger method. 

also, dear reader, by general laziness i really mean general (major?) depression. i've really been into shock videos lately, which i think is just a form of self harm for me. it's like i'm trying to override the trauma i already have. but alas, i just get nightmares. it's effed up to type that out.... but i'm effed up at the moment. i have ze blues. and, as i write this blog, ze period cramps. so - no philosophy or poetry or revelry today. that's part of why i'm writing to you, dear void, because sometimes the tree just needs to fall in the forest and not give two shits whether anyone heard it. my go-to when in ze depression hole has historically been to make like Fleance and fly fly fly.... and i was given that opportunity when Luke said he wants to fly off to saudi arabia in a few weeks. but i have no vacation pay left, and no other legit reason to take an unpaid week off. can't help but think they'd love me in saudi though.... she ain't got a license to drive! 

lately when i leave work i've been feeling an immense pressure in my chest, like a stack of books is resting on it. this anxious feeling is an old friend, unfortunately. i have a ridiculous and selfish urge to go completely off the rails - to grab this old friend by the wrist and party till the sun comes up (and by party i mean smoke weed until i'm comatose and treat night like day and day like night). but i won't and can't do that. instead i'll take my ass to therapy. kicking and screaming maybe. 

to top it all off, summer could not come sooner. it's actually a comforting thought that an unstoppable, inevitable force like a change of season will brighten my mood. it's an inevitability that i'll be happier. never before heard of in this story, dear reader. i am ready to traipse around toronto in minimal clothing and smoke cigarettes as i please. 9pm on the half sunlit porch... ahhhhh. another summer means a year of working, which kinda feels like just existing. i've been thinking perhaps i don't want to go to grad school, perhaps i don't want to follow the career path i thought i would... and maybe flitting around the non-profit sector is where i should reside. whatever i choose, wherever i go, i know i'll be doing something helpful in this horrible world... so no complaints here. 

well. i think ze depression is here to stay for now. correction: here to squat. the worst of it will be gone soon though. a stay at a cottage over the weekend with no skiing but the aura of what it would be like to be someone who skis shall force some serotonin into my brain methinks. i think around this time last year i was cleaning out my grandma's apartment. weirdly, i kind of want to go back to that time... not because i want that pain again, but because it was a sort of justified purgatory. i existed for one thing and one thing only. a one track mind. 

that carpeted floor sounds pretty comfortable at the moment. 

in other news, morrissey posted an open letter to johnny marr and it cracked me up. "It was YOU who played guitar on ‘Golden Lights’ - not me." el oh el. honestly, the unabashed-ness of this letter was mostly what inspired me to start blogging like this. so i will sign off like the insane man himself:

McKenzie. February 2022.