“When shall we meet again? When will the earthy taste of your lips come again to brush the anxiety of my mind? Will all our sensations remain forever intellectual, and will not our dreams succeed in igniting one soul whose feeling will help us to die? What is this death in which we are forever alone, in which love does not show us the way?”
— Antonin Artaud, Art and Death.
Last night I dreamt that someone near and dear to me was the devil. My life was shrouded in long narrow hallways of pure darkness. The details escape me but I remember feeling afraid, and breaking free involved solving some kind of puzzle or riddle. Maybe I’ve been playing too much Skyrim…
It scares me how quickly one full year flew by. This year felt infinitely more inconsequential and uneventful (than the year before it), and it strikes me as odd that this year just passed me by. What I always compare is working at Sephora for a year and working at Consolidated for a year (this year). Working at the former felt like a significantly long period of time whereas my current job just felt like an insignificant tiny sliver of time. I just don’t want year after year to pass me by…
I feel like in this very moment I should be doing something with my life, making the best use of my time. This is the time. I’m in my early 20s, the time when I have the most energy, the most optimistic view, and I have my youth. But instead I feel like already I succumbed to a static existence. Progression and growth has ceased.
My last year of college was monumental. There were moments of literal enlightenment. Moments in which I sensed emotional growth in physical time as it happened.
Those moments have not happened in a year. Nothing monumental happens in my life anymore. Every day practically feels the same. Work, home, maybe go somewhere. I’m now living in a life where there is no discussion. Before there were things to get excited about, things to talk about, pressing issues I felt passionate about. Now there is a world full of people I feel don’t care anymore.