listening to: the high llamas – a winter’s day
I would like to announce that I just made the best stew in my crockpot, ever.
I haven’t eaten anything with wheat in it for two days. I also haven’t had refined sugar, and only minimal dairy products. My eyes are already 50% less puffy. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to gnaw my own arm off.
Yeah, I know. That stupid wheat-free thing again. But I swear, the shit I’ve been eating for the last two months, between travel-eating and stress-eating, has done me in. I only want to have energy and not feel shitty anymore. The last time I did this no-wheat thing resulted in just that, and for whatever reason I kept on feeling great, even after I started eating crap again. Stupid wheat intolerance.
Oh, but wait. Here is the best exchange I had with anyone, all day. This might actually end up running for title of “best exchange all week.”
Ryan: haha, what’d you say?
Me (Autoreply): dear talia, you need to SHUT. THE HELL. UP.
Me: i said lots of things
Me: in my head
Me: basically, i’m a pessimistic motherfucker
Me: i gotta run
Ryan: laters pmf
Ryan: pessimistic motherfucker
Me: that makes my day
Yeah. I don’t know if it’s stress or biorhythms or what but for about an hour today, around a bass lesson and ridiculous amounts of rehearsing, but I turned into the biggest pessimist in the motherfucking universe. Yeah, people.
I mean…there’s a lot to be down about. And I’m not talking grad schools. Sure, the rejections and the anxiety, whatever. But I started to realize that…what’s the point? Our planet is overpopulated, and country is falling into recession, some kind of global food crisis is about happen and I want to play the fucking cello? I know that music makes a difference, I’ve seen and experienced this, but I don’t believe that I can contribute some sort of good to society or the world by practicing 3 hours a day and rehearsing and having high-ended snobby academic discussion and owning…things. I hate possessions and I hate that people are their possessions and it would really be so much easier if I didn’t have any. And I have terrifying visions of the day when everything about the world is so bad and hopeless that none of that will matter anyway, and I’ll be lucky if I can eat. And remember all those years that I’ve been joking about living on some kind of hole on some kind of hill? Apparently I was serious. Because if I can’t contribute something good to society, I at last want to not contribute something bad to society. It doesn’t exactly hurt that I really really really hate people in general.
And…yeah. See what I mean? Somebody needs to seriously hit me upside the head. Because A) how do I know life is going to be so bad and B) why am I wasting my time worrying about it before it happens anyway?
I think I might need more optimistic friends. Yesterday when I was killing time by not practicing, I wandered into the library and hung out with Eric and we talked about those very pessimistic things, and how music schools are harder to get into and now you need a DMA if you want a job, and how music school is progressive enough for us, and how we’re going to start the Lakadicker (or in final form, PistaGasaLakaDicker) Progressive School of Music for Realists (i.e. Pessimists). I need somebody to encourage positive thinking in my life. Otherwise I worry I might collapse in on myself (like a dying star).
I seriously think anxiety about my future is doing this to me. It forces me to consider all sorts of irrational and unrelated factors of the world and how my life and the lives of everyone else would be if everything just stopped functioning in the world. It kind of makes me miss the days where my only real concern for the future was the probability of my dying alone and unloved. Those were the days.
I also really need to stop watching television focusing on death, or whatever. She says,
Anyway. Then Ryan fixed my day, I got over my irrational negativity, and I rehearsed Mendelssohn and Huber until forever.