July 22, 2024

Daily Dose Of Milk 7-19-2024

I feel like an alien inside the airport. The board to the left of the Gate 5 sign reads Burbank to Sea-Tac. Nothing about this situation makes sense to me, including the people boarding the plane and the sounds, and none of it. the world I’m in feels separated now, originally excited to get a small taste of peak Washington summer. I now sit on this plane anxious. Why am I even going back I hate it there. I’m heading home to celebrate the people I love and their incredible milestones. I hadn’t even told anyone I was coming. Now everyone I’d like to see is book, busy, or not even in town. the disappointment has overcome the excitement. I know it’ll feel good to be back but I know it will force me to deal with stuff distance makes easier. Here I am asking what I’m doing with my life. 

This week is scrambling my brain and I’m begging for a way to get a grip on it. The past two days I’ve called out of work. I fucking hate my job but for some reason, I feel so anxious about calling out. There is a weight to this American life of mine that feels so much heavier now. Can I walk away from something that's as tied to me as my DNA? I’m starting to feel like maybe I’m not living my truth. Could it be that my image of self has changed and I don’t want to come to terms with it? What I do know is that I’m experiencing the entirety of the emotional gambit. I’m alive. That doesn’t feel like enough, to be alive and to feel things. I want to talk about it too, I want more. 

I found myself agonizing from the confines of how I’ve been socialized. I’m spinning out. What feels necessary is to burn it all down and move on. One must possess a certain amount of strength to spark the fuse. What do you do when you light the match and run? Here I am stuck in the horrific position of the beginning of a great idea and seeing it through. Selfishly I want to experience the beginning and end of things. Something is “good” something happens something sails off into the sun still “good”. That's where I want to be. it’s an unrealistic and selfish ideology. 

I’m sitting with myself in a way I can’t remember ever having done before. I only experience things with intention. It was fun a week ago not now. Should I stop? I want the excitement of pretending back. when I could pretend that my friend in the Bay Area liked me because she liked all my mirror selfies. or that my other friend and I might have a shot as a couple now that we finally living in the same city after matching on Hinge 50 times. Without my portal, I only have the phone call about returning to work after your album release show. I get to be in these people's lives but not in the way I’ve dreamt. There is nothing pretend about that. 

Last night at dinner my friend Sam introduced a new phrase to me, “If it’s to be, it's up to me”. I love that, I love everything about it,  If I want ice cream it's up to me! Can that work for everything? Will that work for all one might desire? 

I guess this ones to be continued:

Previous

Next

No previous posts
No newer posts

About

“Making everyday something worth talking about”

For all things enumclaw email: Enumclaw.mgmt@gmail.com

For everything else email: aramis@forwhenthecowscomehome.net

For fan club info and exclusive content send $1 to P.O Box 27282, Los Angeles, CA 90027 or Just send us a letter

Mgmt: tristan@votiv.is, lindsay@votiv.is

Booking: ali@arrivalartists.com