monthly me | july ’17

bloody hell.

My life, I realize suddenly, is July. Childhood is June, and old age is August, but here it is, July, and my life, this year, is July inside of July.

– Rick Bass

July is over. I am 19, my room is mostly in three suitcases bulging at the seams, and I have a plane to catch in five days. July was my last full month in South Africa, and here we are at the end of it, as we would be at the end of any other month. July inside of July; here we go.

I’m taking out my twists as I’m writing this, so to say my hands are a bit full as an understatement. This July, I grappled. While I mostly grappled with grasping the reality of leaving a home (this only hit midway through my speech at my farewell), I spent the month under Kylie’s curse, constantly realising things.

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things like, you’ll turn 19. regardless. (birthday, 2017)

I grappled with having no internet at my house for most of the month for a reason I still haven’t been able to find out. This was…how you say…awful. Most of my life is working on the internet or not working on the internet, and having the common factor of the two removed entirely set me up for a month of laziness, and behind deadlines-ness, and all the other nesses that come with no internet.

I grappled with not being able to be the person I knew myself to be because of my brain. Oh man, that brain – she’s a handful. In short, I got very (read: did not move from bed for three days at one point), very depressed. I couldn’t get up because I didn’t take my meds because I couldn’t get up, and lemme tell you guys: that shit is awful. I had a hell night where I was more dangerously suicidal that I’d been in probably two or three years, but I got through that too with the help of some pals over the ocean and one lovely one here at home. I’m still here though.

This month I had a farewell party! It’s mad – before this past weekend, I’d only ever had one party at my house because contrary to popular belief, I don’t like parties a ton. However, the spirit of my farewell was just…so good. Just pure, concentrated good, and love and enough niceness to wipe the suicidal ideation of the week before, the stress of the few hours before the party, and the disappointment at the 30 people who said they’d come, but didn’t. It’s a funny thing. I was extremely sad when I realised that all the people who said they wanted to see me and “make plans” and RSVP’d in the definite just didn’t show up, and I wondered why they would bother with the pretence. Now, I’m not talking about those who were ill, or who were away — just people who decided not to come. I wanted to cry about it, and then I thought about them all and realised that I’d rather they didn’t come. I’m grateful for intentions being made plain, and Saturday was a whole buncha that. In the end, I got to have an evening where nobody I didn’t want to see was there, where I loved on everyone who loved me through the nightmares of high schools and universities past so hard, and where I played The 1975 all night because I could. It was good.

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tunes n vidz

coming in at number one, no surprise to anybody…

i got back into the 1975’s first record this month really hard. it conjures memories of 14 year old shalom lying on the floor listening to head.cars.bending and wondering about being lorde. a good time.

fall down, write another song about your friends

danger in our consequence

this song is just cute as hell. also kermit singing? sign me the heck UP

other loves

  • this post by maxine, because i noticed and i love her and i love it
  • two fanfictions that i will not link but am having the time of my LIFE reading
  • these:IMG_20170709_001628[1]

snippets of internal monologue

July is over. Whooooosh. South Africa time is mostly over. Crying whoooooosh. Thanks for being home, you all.

love and light,
shalom xo

// h e a r t o u t //

it’s just (3,752 of) you and i tonight; why don’t you figure my heart out?

physical heart: anatomically correct (i’d hope). doing fine, bit stressed out by the amount of pizza i’ve eaten in the last three weeks and the fact that i don’t do enough cardio at all.

metaphorical brain heart: fervently passionate about the renewal of vows that i’ve had with the 1975 – we are an even happier couple now and i can’t go a day without them, it appears. also wants to write about heart out.

i like heart out for more reasons than i thought i would. in my re-listen of their first album, i wtried to figure out why i like the 1975 at all. i tried to find my favourite songs off the album, i tried to see if i liked the song more if i liked the video, and i watched so many sets of live shows to see whether i still liked the song when it’s performed live.

i like heart out for all of these reasons and obviously because i’m a gratuitous oversharer, i’m going to put more of my heart out here. if that’s even possible. if you ever need to piece me back together, i share my innermost secrets and emotions with thousands of strangers on the internet – you’ll find me there. i’m a very private person, see. can’t just be telling people you know these things.

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well, first: i love heart out now, more than i did in 2012. maybe it’s because i’ve learned how to properly listen through matty’s manchester accent, or because i really enjoy the way the video was directed and understand it  now (thanks drama directing prac). i guess because i’m older there are people who i can sing this song to and have almost every word relate to them. i’m not 14 anymore, and there are people that i  found when we were both younger much younger; people that i liked no matter what i found out about them. and now…now i sit with them after three or five or ten years of knowing them, trying to know them. still.

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the second verse always makes me laugh – it’s so very high school. it’s girls twirling their hair far too much until it tangles while talking to boys, and seeing three people in your year actively trying to mirror a girl in the year above, and that small circle of rich kids with drug problems and too much money. a reflection on their mental health? certainly.

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while i’ve (thankfully) never been addicted to cocaine and heroin, or sex, i wonder what my rocks and brown would be. what’s something i was, or am, obsessed with that most adequately reflected my mental health? perhaps how addictive my personality is to begin with and that moderation isn’t a word i can get my brain and body to understand. maybe how much i liked skins when i was 13. (that was stupid. who lets a 13 year old  with a new depression diagnosis watch skins? the internet. that’s who.) maybe my knack for self destruction by bringing other people up and quashing my need for self care? i guess i’m figuring my heart out, and figuring out what my heroin is. it makes for interesting self to self conversation.

i’ve always been good at one thing though, and that’s a lotttttta feelings. yes ma’am, that’s me, center of the feelingsverse, feels HQ – “haver of every and any feeling” is my official title. how very cancerian of me. if you’ve been around here a while, or even if this is the first post you’ve finished, i’m almost certain you can tell. i still do live in my head a massive amount. i guess…i am the adolescent on the phone; speaking like i’m bigger than my body.

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my birthday is on tuesday and i’m trying not to be scared about it but all the trying is tiring. but i don’t want to be afraid. my impulse control is non existent. i really want to take my meds every day this week but a morning dose is hard if i only muster the strength to get out of bed after noon. my room is mostly clothes and i’m tired of going shopping for my move. i hate seeing attractive boys with kind eyes because i do stupid things like repeat myself to my friends 100 times. i’m still scared that everyone who’s ever said they like me don’t, and that i’m not actually a likeable person. i think that maybe my idea that i’m good is wrong, because am i? could i really be? i have worse posture than people think – i just stand up really straight in public because it’s part of the things that i do in public. i’m so bad with money.

there it is.

/ / H E A R T   O U T / /

love and light,
shalom xo