Yesterday was highly productive.
I tattooed a Spinoza quote (in Latin) on my arm. Omnis determinatio est negatio. Every determination is a negation. The script wraps around my bicep. Every time I look at it I am filled with euphoric joy. This is something I have wanted for a long time, and marks the beginning of a new time. 3 months ago I couldn't walk outside my house without having a panic attack, or ride the subway, or function like a "normal" person, whatever the fuck that means. Yesterday was the first day that I felt none of that burdensome, unconquerable anxiety, even with a fucking needle drilling into my arm. I'd like to think my happiness is not artificial, that it's not just the drugs. But that's probably a lie. The tattoo dude told me not to be nervous, and I said that everything makes me nervous. His response was "oh, you're one of those. Learn to relax." I found this ironic. I wanted to hug him for giving such simple, ignorant advice. Good vibes.
These photos (from here) remind me of Baudelaire. I only feel comfortable in this city during the night.
Huge bottles of cheap sauvignon blanc
Chest pains from laughing too hard
Indulging in girly lust for fictional characters
Epic movies and tears shed for death
Midnight treks to 7/11 for cigarettes and taquitos
Loud insults thrown to people on the street
Messages in the snow
Old men startled by riotous laughter
Packs and packs of cigarettes.
Falling asleep in skinny jeans, naked from the waist up, with my cat purring beside my head. Running down streets and feeling perfectly at ease with and in the world.