I love the feeling of my own rib cage. When I can feel the ribbed ribs on my phalanges I feel a sense of Egon Schiele. Or a line drawing by 하일권, one of my favorite webtoon artist.
Time would flow differently for me. I was convinced there was a derivative of time, that probably explained time’s characteristic and magnitude in relation to other variables/host. Because me as a system have a different sense of time. Why do some showers feel like 3 hours? Why did I sleep every other day? Why is it that if I wanted to today, I could — but I choose not to?
Everyone is judgmental. The judgements just have to be sound.
I am increasingly realizing that i am actually very judgmental. I used to openly and secretly-even-more-so love judgmental people, because I would find a lot of them with very sound judgements. For that reason I am ecstatic about this growing judgmentalism in me; I love my judgements. They are so helpful, and I feel snarky. I think a lot of my judgements are sound, and if not, I am learning — so much better than not being able to generate judgements, which I think was my problem growing up. I would just feel emotions:
I learned about three default negative emotions human can have.
12/14 flight, after finding out that my morning flight got cancelled only in the 8AM airport and dealing with the frustration from that while rescheduling for tonight, I guess I can’t help but have these background cache running. Used to call it anxiety, now I just embrace it. When the tsunami comes (I have this perfect drawing in my head, reminder to draw it out — for not showing anyone like you guys, if there even is an audience lol, but for my habit of executing whatever is in my head, because there exist great outcomes in the productions rather than consumptions of thoughts) I let them wander, and write them down non-stressingly. So here.
Last time I was in a plane ride from Prague to SFO, I had a similar tsunami: an instagram page. I was going to start off by posting all of my lovely travel content in a new instagram account (beautiful photo spots, nice restaurants, my up-close life, honest no-bullshit and personal review, etc), a whole new persona that I can make it to be whoever, (that is, nicely put; poorly put, cat fish) but now I see it being hard. It's too much. Too time consuming. Every time there is the usage of word too, its a misalignment of effort and purpose. Of course, it is not entirely additive and congruent with my general life direction, yet.
I had this idea of myADHDdiary.com: in tsunamis (or tornadoes? since these tsunamis have a central motif that bring back thoughts)
Watching Mulan: 2 minutes into the movie I tear up looking at Fa Mulan chasing a chicken everywhere in their little cul de sac and up the roof, making a whole ordeal with her parents yelling after her, but she is smiling fresh. I don’t know where my obsession with the notion of “liberation” comes from. I say obsession because I have very strong feelings attached to the glimpses of the word or even to the nuanced portrayal of the concept, and don’t know why. So by definition, I am unreasonably emotional about it.
WW84 was shit. Maybe I had no context. Still shit -- people without context should still be able to enjoy.
More hopeful about Mulan but I never finished it for the reasons of the following several posts I ran-wrote down until I tired myself to dry sleep in the plane.