i need to issue a disclaimer: it’s come to my attention that alex dimitrov’s newsletters, which i’d mentioned in my previous newsletter as being a fan of, are moreso detailed reports of his sex life. hence i need to retract my statement of wanting my newsletters to be more like his. thanks S for bringing this up to me. kiss
heh. but as much as i like the tone of his newsletters, i think the time (my time?) for newsletters has passed. i think i need to change up the format of these, transition into essays or something.. rah. but i’ve never written a story or essay before, so i’m not sure how to go about it..
some examples of essays i really like are:
looking for alice - a good little love story that is also informational. i reread this occasionally
actually the stuff i enjoy i cannot show u. but my friend V sent me this draft of a story/essay/thing she was working on n it blew my damn socks off! shes such a good writer n storyteller. it was so inspiring. i was like woah.. woah.. Woah. it really was very good. i find myself thinking about it still from time to time
…to be continued
but how do people write essays? how do people figure out what to write about? how do you pull a story out of yourself, fully formed… how do they find a plot? how do i find what’s compelling? i think it doesn’t help that i myself don’t really feel compelled at all these days. i think about visa’s concept of voltage all the time…
i really have to work to *feel* stuff. my default is a very neutral state of dissociation… i find it hard to feel things. i think i may have accidentally installed dissociation in myself as my default coping mechanism, and i didn’t notice for so long that i’m not sure how to turn it off. it’s hard to feel alive most days, not that this is something i mind or notice. i usually just drift. but i feel it most distinctly when people ask me about myself, and in my struggle to respond wholeheartedly and substantially i get the distinct image in my head of trying to reach into myself past layers and layers and layers of thick, dense fog trying to extract myself from within. that’s when i notice it, at least. sometimes people ask me about myself and i find myself struggling to give them a good answer with enough content to support the conversation, and i don’t understand why the conversation is so stilted until i get back home and process the conversation, and realise that i actually have a more substantial answer in my head now and that i actually have more stuff i could share rather than just… “i don’t really mind it. it’s fine”.
my working hypothesis is that this response (or lack of it) is a direct function of how safe i feel at any given point of time, in any given circumstance. sometimes i don’t feel safe & i don’t realise it. barring a certain level of familiarity or resonance, it’s hard for me to talk about things, even if i actively want to. i wrote this instagram caption back in late feb on resonance, broken english and all:
"to me there’s something about rapport that u can really only get by building it up over time.. its like.. slowly as u keep coming into contact with each other, ur vibration frequencies get closer n closer n more n more resonant.. (this convo is inspired by the convo i had over lunch with F and K, which i enjoyed.. was also interesting to realise that between the 3 of us we have all 3 water signs..) i’m like a cat.. if i see u frequently, only then i’ll be more comfortable with u… n if i stop seeing u frequently, no matter how close we were, i will forget how to be comfortable around u.. its not even about like closeness or depth of friendship i feel.. is just about .. my comfort level. weirdly. yeah. i always struggle with trying to get back in sync with my friends after not having met them for a while, n it honestly always throws me off.. so i am .. i am trying my best to live without it, bc who has schedules that can sync up even semi regularly these days?! Cmon man. That kind of thing is rly a treasure. waaa. adulthood is so hard. growing up is hard"
i feel so ineloquent. my goodness. maybe i just have to DO. just have to try. RAH. what do i even write about??? how do i write a story out of it???? screaming. argh. okay. let me know if u have any thoughts or ideas. i’m pooped.. heh.
:p,
ry