I’m great.

I’m cool. I’m great. I’m cool. I’m great. I’m cool. I’m great. I’m cool.

I’m smart and competent and happy and great. I’m a good person, I do my best, I’m a flawed but strong person who can be anything and believes in herself and is great.

Gotta start somewhere.

I’m okay.

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.

I’m okay.

I used to have to write that in my journals all the time, or just write it on a piece of paper and throw it away, or on a whiteboard, whatever. I don’t really remember how many times I did it. There were on and off periods, when I was in puberty, and after that it’s just resurfaced every once in a while.

I actually had/have a lot of affirmations that I probably don’t do enough.

You’re good enough. You’re good enough. You’re good enough. You’re good enough.

You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.

You’re calm. You’re calm. You’re calm.

You’re loved. You’re loved. You’re loved.

You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.

You’re perfect the way you are. You are the Kesha you want to see in the world. And also the Sia and Miss Eaves and Lizzo and Regina Spektor and Sarah Bareilles and Virginia Woolf and Simone de Beauvoir and whoever else, obviously it’s a long list…

And then when that doesn’t work, I just breathe. Sometimes all you can do is remember to breathe.

On “Debauchery…”

It just occurred to me that if you read this blog before watching my YouTube stuff, you could very well think I’m, like, devoutly religious. Maybe.

I guess I’ve clarified that organized religion isn’t always my favorite thing, but a lot of religious people also feel that way.

Anyway just for the folks who wind up here, first, and wonder why I’m so into Jesus… I’m not a sex negative Christian, or a “drugs are bad” Christian. I wouldn’t even identify as a “Christian” necessarily, but that’s not because I’m not a fan of the J-dog.

Continue reading “On “Debauchery…””

“There is no object so foul that intense light will not make beautiful…”

…has always been one of my favorite quotes. 

I don’t know if I believe that it’s true, but I want it to be. 

I want to believe that everything, everyone, has a purpose. That there are no accidents. That even the worst of us plays a role in the story of life that in a certain light makes sense, that redemption is possible for anyone, on a long enough timeline. 

I think ultimately it’s probably because like Ralph Waldo Emerson, I want to believe in God – but not a man in the sky version of God, the version of God where the Holy Trinity is Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. 

It’s ultimately kind of a desire just to believe that even when life sucks, if you could see things the way they are, exactly how they are, that maybe the inescapable and infinite suffering of being alive isn’t a cruel joke but the mechanism by which the universe polishes consciousness into something more and more beautiful. 

I don’t think that life is fair. I don’t believe in karma, or divine justice. But I do think that even though we think we’re all separate pieces of the human puzzle, fighting to take up space, that we’re actually not puzzle pieces at all, but raindrops that only exist as drops while they’re falling, but end up back in the same body of water as all the other drops, in the end, and so everything we do to other people while we’re alive winds up being something we did to ourselves, too, and the ultimate joke is that God isn’t a Great Judge in the Sky who tallies up our good and bad deeds, but just a metaphor to understand the fact that we were never really separate from everything else, at all. 

Continue reading ““There is no object so foul that intense light will not make beautiful…””

The Internet is Bananas.

Self-publishing is such a bizarre ability that used to not really even be a thing. If you wanted to broadcast your thoughts you had to get on a stage or just… be really loud?

But now we can all self-publish anything, any time, and that is pretty crazy. Social media makes it so we all are celebrities, kind of – we’re all constantly presenting ourselves to each other in a packaged form.

It’s why Facebook drove me crazy in high school… oh boy we’re about to get way too personal. But is that not what I do best?

Continue reading “The Internet is Bananas.”

I’ve always been a little weird…

I just want to get out of my own way for a second and type what’s in my head.

There is a weird comfort here that I lost with my videos when people started watching. It’s nice to feel like you’re in a cozy seminar, just you and the few people who happen to engage with whatever you put out there. It’s not too few to be lonely, but it’s not too many to be scary.

Continue reading “I’ve always been a little weird…”

Epic, Part ii (Hadestown)

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I’ve been thinking about this song all day, and was going to tweet about it but then I was like… nah bitch, this is what we started a blog for!

I just think each word of this song is so lovely… in case I have yet to persuade you to listen to this album, Hadestown is a rock opera performed by Anaiis Mitchell and many others, that explores the story of Orpheus & Eurydice.

The story of Orpheus and Eurydice is an Ancient Greek one. In this song, Orpheus is singing about Hades, the god of the underworld, whose wife, Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of fertility & nature, is also a major player in the story arc of the album. Anyway so Orpheus, the idealist/artist/musician/lover of beauty, is trying to save his love, Eurydice (who symbolizes purity, justice, innocence…) from Hades after her untimely demise, and in so doing travels to & observes the Underworld (“Hadestown”).

Continue reading “Epic, Part ii (Hadestown)”

Okay. Blogging.

I’ve been learning a lot. I’ve been feeling like I, uh… I guess I feel like I don’t really fit anywhere. I tried getting behind a microphone, and that didn’t work. I tried working retail again, and that didn’t work. I tried YouTube, but now that I have a shot at making that work, I’m too afraid and insecure to make it work, probably.

I just, I’ve written myself into a corner. On the one hand, I have… something. A uniqueness, I guess. Whatever my YouTube stuff has been so far, it’s… its own thing, I feel. But the problem with that is, I have no idea where I fit. Am I a “Philosophy YouTuber” and if so, how could I possibly even hope to compete with the incredible philosophy content that already exists? And if not, why bother with the philosophy stuff at all? But for me the philosophy stuff is the point of the channel. Continue reading “Okay. Blogging.”

“There’s no such thing as angels, but there are people who might as well be…”

This is a blog, and the point of a blog is to overshare in a way that’s interesting/compelling, right? Which means this is a safe place for me to just be me, right?

Ideally, maybe, but it sure doesn’t feel that way, anymore. Maybe because I’m too young to understand the difference between awkwardness and true dumbassitude. Shakespeare invented words, too, don’t tell me how to live my life! …says the girl trying to figure out how she got so crazy that she can’t even tell which of HER OWN voices is really her, anymore.

Anyway but maybe we all have a multitude of voices so the part that’s weird is just admitting to it in the wrong spaces. But we have so many new, bizarre spaces in which to communicate, now. It’s not easy to figure out how to do that effectively on every possible scale. It’s not easy to realize that the simulated world and the real world are one and the same.

Continue reading ““There’s no such thing as angels, but there are people who might as well be…””

Learning how to aim.

“Words are loaded pistols.” – Jean-Paul Sartre

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I once wrote a short story about a boy who was mute because he realized that each time he spoke, he gave a piece of his soul to the person listening.

Obviously, if anything, I’m the opposite. But I still think every time you speak, you’re giving a piece of yourself to whoever is listening. I think we forget how powerful words can be, we kind of have to forget how powerful they can be, because if we didn’t we would be like the boy in my story, & just stop talking.

Personally, I can’t help but be honest about what I think and feel regardless of consequences, which is often problematic. It’s a habit I’m trying to break, or at least to control a little better. But I think it’s hard for people to tell the truth. It’s hard to be truly yourself in your words because you’re giving a piece of who you really are to someone, and that’s scary. It’s much easier to develop a persona or a facade to hide behind, to say what you think people want to hear. Continue reading “Learning how to aim.”