laugh until our ribs get tired

spotify recently told me all of the music i’ve been listening to since i got it – so since august. ribs, by lorde, is up there in the top 20 and it baffled me to see it there considering the fact that i don’t remember listening to it any time after 2015. it did make me think about the fact that it is no longer 2015 – nearly no longer 2017 – and i still get that same rush i did when i listen to it.

it’s not enough to feel the lack, so here’s a snapshot of 2014 and ribs.

2014 through 2017 is a bob ross painting, except all the paintbrushes are rock solid and the end result is a bit of a mess – but bob ross made it, so it’s worth it. 2014 was dancing behind “do not enter” signs and making enough mistakes to only make them four or five times over. i learned and loved and felt, and all in a spectacular sixteen year old way. it’s crazy to think that i’m not 15 any longer, because i can still remember that year like it happened in last night’s lucid dream.

2015 was spinning until i was dizzy in every aspect of my life and being very proud of myself for not throwing up despite it all. goodness, do you remember your last year of high school? two years later and i can still tell you about change room discussions and story exchanges and eating chips in a theatre costume room instead of being in maths. high school ends, and so does 17.

seventeen ended and i was heartbroken and devastated in such a way that i still don’t understand it. i’m so grateful for first loves and what they teach us, but more importantly, i’m grateful for first heartbreaks and how surviving them is the bravest thing you could ever do at one point. boys and girls and non binary pals will break your hearts and i don’t know about you, but i’ve always liked puzzles and putting things back together.

i wish i could tell you what 18 was, but that was a year and a half ago and now i’m closer than ever to two decades of whatever it is i’m doing here. i’m finally learning the joy of being a carbon based lifeform – how lucky we are to never struggle with a logical notion of forever.

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anyway, i took a bunch of photos with my roommate today and they reminded me of ribs and they reminded me of how i wished i’d feel when i reminisced.

high school ends. it ends.
thank god.

happy last day of school, south african students!

love and light,
shalom xo

here’s to your fucking alibi

 

maybe i wish you were mine
maybe i wish you took time
to see just what you’ve done to me

hey, hey, you ever been a spent wreck at 2:19 in the morning? because same. baby, same.

i’ve been listening to alibi by clans for the last couple of days because of how i’ve been feeling. if you’ve been here a while, you’ll know of my self destructive tendencies and how i empty myself into bettering other people after i’ve run dry twice over. i went back to uni after six-ish months off, and nothing’s changed. how foolish of me to think otherwise of myself, yes?

alibi is a good song. the more i listen to it, the more i see every interpersonal relationship i’ve ever been a part of in it. the more i listen to it, the more i want to laugh hysterically and also climb out of my skin. the more i listen to it, the more i want to ask every single person in my life: where’s your fucking alibi?

she’s gonna tell you exactly what you wanna hear
she doesn’t mean it but she needs someone
who will dry up all her tears

i got food poisoning today! yesterday. whatever. i got me a dose of that good ol’ food poisoning and ended up skipping a really important class this morning. i thought i was feeling better, but i have this sinking feeling that i’m not as better as i had hoped. maybe it’s the food poisoning, maybe it’s the tightness in my chest that makes me want to fling myself into the outer reaches of the universe — either way, i still feel like i’m about to throw up.

i’m good at being good for something. which sounds…fine. until nobody needs that something anymore. it’s a shame, really, and i’d give almost anything to get out of this mindset. as for now, i’m doing the same things that 2014 and 15 and 16 shalom begged me to stop: being because someone else needs.

and though i know just what you’re doing
i’ll still pretend you’re right
and even though i see straight through it
i’ll still put my heart on the line

you know what’s the worst about this? it’s that the more i try to fix this for myself, the more invested i become in learning how to be a person for myself, the more collateral damage i cause within my already fragmented thought process. it’s a lot like a frank conversation i’m having with several versions of the same self. “there’s nothing wrong with mothering, shalom.” there is something wrong with it being your be all and end all. “i do this because i like to, and i happen to get validation from it so i like that too. it’s fine.” shalom, you’re running yourself into the ground because you’re feeding people by starving yourself. who feeds you? 

well, shalom,  i don’t know.

i see through it. i see through myself, and through those taking advantage of my nature, and those who can’t stand it. and still, my heart is everyone’s starting line – a good trampling is a reminder that you’re still alive unless it’s all you feel. is this getting a bit melodramatic? maybe. but also, i feel so so shit, so. yes.

she’s gonna make you feel like you’re the only one
when she’s done with all her fun
she’ll tell you it’s all in your head

people aren’t disposable, and yet, here i am. boy, do i wish i could get my head out of my ass. it’s a direct result of my being the way i am and also my existence in a world that doesn’t cater to it. it is all in my head. i only think people are finished with me because i convince myself that they need me more than they do, because that’s where i find worth. problematic? yep. fixable? ah. well.

at the end of the day, my interpersonal relationships are lopsided because of how i view myself and my worth. i know it. there’s no blame on the people who meet me and are simultaneously met with an outpouring of love that shocks them three ways to sunday. and yet…i still want to ask every person that’s seen me destroy myself time and again, and then allowed me to ruin myself for them once (twice, ten times) more: where’s your fucking alibi? where were you at the time of my overzealous self-sacrifice? what were you doing? why?

the thing is that it doesn’t matter. it’s on me. let me make it clear that i know this, alright? it doesn’t make it less shit. so, regardless of the when and where, those reports will do nothing until i find a way to stop doing this. @ everyone who does provide them, well.

here’s to your fucking alibi.

love and light,
shalom xo

preamble

Right. Hey dudes.

I’ll see you all in July’s monthly me, but I’ve been wanting to write a lil something before then. As usual, things got in the way and the nature of who I am as a person did not change. As such, this is maybe the first thing I’m writing in weeks. In a month? Maybe over a month.

My draft count is up to 43 and I haven’t stopped yelling, “come on brain, think of things” since I published heart out. Developments​: I’m 19 and it’s a whole new kind of ugly. Damn that anxiety center in my brain. Top of my wishlist is that all the big anxious makers in my head would take one hell of a holiday. Goodness.

I’m moving to the garden state in just over a week and it’s very ridiculous that we’re here already. Really, I just have to sing “Lost” from the Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief musical for my sister once I get there. Packing is weird.

Oh​, yes. I’m also really bloody ill. I had a fever and I can’t find the Sinutab and dammit my head is in my shoes.

The internet at my house has been out for most of the month as well, but I don’t know if I would have gotten work done even if it was up.

Consider this a preamble to the mess that will be the July Monthly Me. I miss writing. I miss this corner. I miss being able to breathe out of both nostrils.

love & light,

shalom xo

currently 3

currently, my room (which doubles as my office [ha office what]) along with my entire house, has been turned upside down and inside out due to renovations and painting. all of my stuff has been moved out (save for my bed and immovable desk) into another room and i grow more and more frustrated every day. i do not know where any of my stuff is. despite the painting in my room being finished, i now have no internet to work off because our internet has been disconnected (in line with the study where the router is being pulled apart because painting) and it’s driving me mad. and broke.

currently, i am in a starbucks after almost crying from frustration after spending three hours on the phone with the bank. i am so tired, and also regret my ill advised decision to wear a bra today. (i’m just going to take it off.)

currently, i am craving food from chiapas eat mexican here in rosebank, but i also know for a fact that i cannot afford it at all. i’ve filled out so many forms and drank a chai latte that i only bought because a friend of mine from high school was working the register. i couldn’t drink it. it’s so much milk, man.

currently, i am stressed about student loans and being broke until i am 40. i’m tired today, and i can’t be arsed to call those banks today. i really can’t. i’m living this tweet at the moment:

currently, i am spending most of my time thinking about the severe lack of the
knowledge of the logistics about my move that i have. it’s a mess. there is so much happening between flights and after flights and in the magical time that i think i have but definitely do not. i have to close a bank account here and if you were around this time last year, you’ll know that my luck with banks is…near non existent.

currently, i’m working on trying to get my may monthly me up and see how it differs from last year’s. i like having these months to look back on. i’m going to finish the atlas series (which has been wonderful and challenging and maybe the only series i will ever finish) and write when i want which will be often. i hope. speaking of writing, i have letters to mail to dora.

currently, my body is tired. my brain is eh. mostly, life is comme ci comme ca. ya girl is thuggin. (trying.)

love and light,
shalom xo

 featured image from death to stock

currently 2

currently…well, this seems to be a slightly better currently than the previous one.

currently, i am prepping for bedim – a blog every day in may – and i am worried that i’m going to be spread quite thin. that’s funny for me to say, because since the last currently i am still not conventionally employed. that’s a fun way to say broke ass bitch, ain’t it?

currently, i am comfortable in the little progress i am making. i’m in a strange space. does getting up before 10 even though i mostly have no reason to have something to do with it? probably.

currently, i am noticing tiny moments like when the sun is setting, and how 2012 shalom adopted almost 40% of her mannerisms from season one nick miller. (i really, really love new girl. the april monthly me explains it better.) i’ve eaten more eggs in the last two months than i ever have in my life – i think it’s maybe to make up the three years i spent not eating eggs.

currently, things are less foggy. it’s still very cloudy, but it’s easier to deal with cloudiness than unending fog. without fog, there’s room for noticing and seeing things before you trip over them (even if you trip over them anyway). i am tripping, HARD. but i’m also listening to podcasts and getting up when i feel like i can’t. i’m thinking of greenbelt fest with my pals from london in a couple of years. i’m present more than i have been in a while, and i’m tentatively relishing in it.

currently, i am getting ready to get stabbed with needles and miracles of science so that i get to move into my dorm with the most kickass italian surnamed kind spirited nursing student rutgers will ever see, and also so that i don’t get meningitis. i’m leaving everything i know soon. i’m ageing soon. many crises are presenting themselves, and i think i will get through them.

not past, but through. currently, we are going until we get there.

love and light
shalom xo