oh holy shit good afternoon bright and early mother fucker hahahaha flim by aphex twin is the soundtrack for today. the drums relax me and keep me on pace. sometimes that song plays whenever i find my fingers acting frenetically in an idyllic setting. which is the kind of mood that i wanted to capture during my session today. phew, my head hurts after sleeping for an extra FOUR HOURS today, so drinking water is a good thing right now. on top of this, i feel like my internal censors have subtly shifted.
ya see, what had kinda happened this morning, before i was going to go to my local starbucks, was that i was feeling extra irritable lately. i woke up and immediately looked at my phone, which i am trying to avoid. i ate too much breakfast before i went out, i was a little past my projected time for my walk down the hill. my perfectionism was kicking in. so him with his shiny shoes was feeling like he was on a roll and decided to call out everything, from my fleeting thoughts to the tasks that i was planning on doing today.
things started piling up to the point where i just couldn't fucking have it anymore. him saying "fuck you" to the things that i wanted to do or the things that i created just brought out the righteous anger that i needed to stand up to the inner bully. the critic seemed to flinch, but i stood my ground. well, actually, i laid down on my bed and clutched my pillow. i talked to it out loud, seeing myself lean in to the hatred that was about to spew from the anger. but for some odd reason, that anger made room for something more compassionate.
"i know now why you're in this position all the time." thoughts about power, helplessness, fear, all swooped into his contorted face, but i decided to speak on behalf of Self. "it's okay, the people that you're protecting us from aren't here right now. they're kinda assholes, you can see that, but i'm here to protect you." these thoughts quieted down ever so subtly. then this deep desire to shut my eyes washed over me.
this account is loosely accurate beyond this point, but i remember going in and out of sleep. this critic began to expose to me all of its restlessness. the constant battle to stay awake, the shogun waiting along the shore for the next battle to fight. i could feel its limping body struggling to stay up for so long, but its resolve keeping it upright for it doesn't know when its next enemy will strike.
perfectionism , criticism, was something that i had to apply to myself? coerce myself into? subject myself to? carry along with me so that i could feel a sense of safety from the people that would put my mistakes on a spotlight for others to levy mockery towards. he was a good sport, he was quite useful, the gumptious basterd. and he likes being called that too, that's how he can tell that he's doing a good job. but now i can see that he's just tired all the fucking time.
i never really gave him the permission to rest, nor did i realize that he needed it. specifically from me. there's some space that i feel right now between what i have in my head and my heart and what i am able to put out there. perfectionism pete, he was probably one of the most persistent guards out of all of them. a worthy soldier worth keeping around. but goddamn, the boy needs some rest. and holy shit i gave it to him. and now i'm feeling a greater ease.
now i'm thinking about the times that i wasn't able to give him rest. but that's not the thing that i want to focus on right now. this screech, with barely any caffeine, so i'm very much repeating myself with the unglamorous filters, he's asleep, and i don't want to wake him up to make these words more gaudy or anything,,, what was i saying? okay yes, this screech is a celebration for him getting some well needed shut eye. ringo be damned, he's going on some gondolas and giving my shogun a fucking lullaby. mm, water is helpful.
well, i went on here to do my daily screech and also try to make sense of what happened (which i did) and now i'm left with the question: where do i go from here? well, petey perfect is eventually going to wake up with its snobby ass ready and roaring to go, so he's probably going to go hard in the paint once he sees all of the shit that i'm going to start creating while he's asleep. but, what i'm hoping will happen, is that i can continue this conversation with him. one where we can have a shared understanding of when is a good time for him to come out and when he needs to put down the caffeine and GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP (sam l jackson style).
and to be honest, this is probably all the sleep debt catching up to petey perfect. he's been up for a loooooooong time, like he's nodded off here and there, but he's never really rested in the way that he was today. and who knows, he might go and thank me for allowing him to sleep.
of course, i would also like to listen to him because he has some good points too, but i don't feel like he's going to be as overpowering as he was before, now that he knows that a boundary exists between him and my Self. this is pretty good, not gonna lie.
my neck agh, it's going to be okay. all we need to be okay is to write. this is going to be okay. i feel a bit more safe in myself. and i hope that vibes out to all the other folx around me. breathe. breathe. breathe easy. feel rest kicking in. god knows i needed the rest too.
two minutes left. apparently i typed around 1600 spaces, idk how many words i actually typed at this point brb. 1058. not bad. well, this is publishable, even in its unglamorous? state... well, unglamorous compared to yesterday. but it makes sense. today is a tender day. i love you. i love you. i love you.
