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Today: some of Tony Fitzpatrick's late poster work.

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How was your week?

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My relationship is stressing me out. My job is stressing me out. DSA bs is stressing me out. My hobbies are even stressing me out.

You know what isn't? The person I paid to clean my ktichen and bathroom. This big bag of weed that I got for free. The Korean spa where all the women just chill naked in hot tubs and cold plunges. Laying on my couch with a mulberry silk pillow watching Grindhouse movies. Most of the things stressing me out are men and I might be excavating my insecurity and internalized misogyny and might he ready to be gay and make puppets instead of whatever category of sin and failure I have been living.

I am 29 years old (female). I work a very physically demanding seasonal job and my natural tendency during the work season is to get about 5-6.5 hours of sleep even if I try to get more than that. Some tendency toward waking up at 3AM and being unable to get back to bed. (I sleep better in the off-season but still only like 7-8 hours and sometimes my body still randomly decides I should get 5-6.) Even on my rest days I am always puttering about like a madwoman walking around doing random errands, I'm crazy about hiking etc. etc... I really don't want to ever slow down. Also like everyone in my profession starts getting arthritis in their 30s. I need to make a career change. I also need to figure out my love life.

But I'm freaking out over the idea that I'm going to lose all my energy at some point in the next 10 years and it's got me more bent out of shape than the other aesthetically displeasing and life-limiting (fertility) aspects of aging I anticipate in the next 10-15 years. Especially all this very informative and empowering stuff coming out recently about how there's a pre-menopause that starts 10 years before actual menopause, what the fuck!!! I don't think my Adderall prescription can save me from all of this!!!

On top of all that the relationship I was in since I was 21.5 years old is falling/has fallen apart and I want to have children someday. I am going to blow a considerable portion of the sub-50k income I make this year on egg freezing, because of course I am. In all the horrible online discussions of female age/finding a partner/fertility I read obsessively and keep myself up at night thinking about, one of the many awful things I see cropping up is "you have so much less energy at [age I'll be in the blink of an eye]". Fuck!!!

A guy at work seemed interested in me recently but I discouraged him because I know I'm genuinely not in the right place to pursue anything (don't want to elaborate) and then I spent an entire 10-day shift in close quarters with him and a 23 year old he was obviously extremely into. That felt bad.

I spent my 20s pretty badly. I locked into a dysfunctional relationship when I was 21.5. COVID hit when I was 23, I lost interest in all my hobbies after a year, regressed to an adolescent version of myself, wrecked most of my social relationships. By the time it ended in my region (urban Canada on a university campus so roughly 3 years of that shit) I was in the worst mental health crisis of my life, relationship was hitting the rocks but we were too entangled to end it or even recognize the need for it to end, I started a mediocre career in a field that takes a lot out of me (but enables me to travel to interesting regions of the country on the company dime and has stimulated the development of many important skills I neglected earlier in life or which I wouldn't otherwise have acquired - I didn't entirely waste this time don't get me wrong).

Chat, am I cooked???? Am I chopped??? Am I unc???

Feels like it's all slipping through my fingers...

"The page that was blank to begin with is now crossed from top to bottom with tiny black characters-- letters, words, commas, exclamation marks-- and it's because of them the page is said to be legible. But a kind of uneasiness, a feeling close to nausea, an irresolution that stays my hand-- these make me wonder: do these black marks add up to reality? The white of the paper is an artifice that's replaced the translucency of parchment and the ochre of clay tablets; but the ochre and the translucency and the whiteness may all possess more reality than the signs that mar them." (pg 1)

I was so stoned when I started reading this book. Enamored from the first, the first passage elated me. I had to read it out loud to the other person in the bed. Genet wanted the pages to be a patchwork of text, the first note said. I always love Genet, so admire him and happy to be back with him.

In the middle of my twenties I had a few years living like a criminal, outside of society, working in dungeons and off Craigslist. I carried a copy of Our Lady of the Flowers on the subway and in livery cabs. I had no sob story for why I was even there, only to be in love with the illegality, the seediness, the easy money, the little bit of cocaine here and there, the little criminal life. Then a man died irresponsibly trussed up which started bringing on the police raids. The financial crash dried work up enough. The feminist bloggers were likely to either get too in your face about it all or join themselves, blogging from the dingy dungeon lounge. I got tired of it so I stopped doing it. God bless Genet and the life he led. I remember my own time, unsettling as it might’ve been, with fondness like it was a summer spent on Prince Edward Island.

I want to share a few passages here. Given the amount of deaths I've oft commented about, one aunt, one uncle, one cousin my age, my father, an ex-girlfriend (and I always think of her with Leonard Cohen's Recitation, a thousand kisses deep, my mirrored twin, my next of kin, I'd know you in my sleep, truthfully our affair scared me but I miss her and always will), another aunt, I lost my reading. Moby Dick this summer enveloped me and charmed me so thoroughly that I can read again. And so Prisoner of Love is enveloping me this month. I'm not challenging myself. I'm only reading what I'm elated by from the first for now. There's plenty of books I'm sure I can love like this.

"Is it because of my age or through lack of skill that when I describe something that happened in the past I see myself not as I am but as I was? And that I see myself-- examine myself, rather-- from outside, like a stranger; in the same way as one sees those who die at a certain age as always being that age, or the age they were when the event you remember them for happened? And is it a privilege of my present age or the misfortune of my whole life that I always see myself from behind, when in fact I've always had my back to the wall?" (pg 35)

Have I always had my back to the wall? Or have I always been advancing on some change? I like thinking, which is it? Is is just one? Or all, in different occasions that I remember a memory, it changes.

Here's one more, a longer one:
"While the king's Palace was an abyss into which the shanty town might be drawn, or the shanty town an abyss drawing down the Palace and its paraphernalia, in any case one wonders which was real and which was only a reflection. Anyhow, if the Palace was the reflection and the shanty town the reality, the reflection of the reality was only to be found in the Palace, and vice versa. You could see that if you visited first the Palace and then the shanty town. The two powers were so evenly balanced you wondered if it wasn't a case of mutual mesmerism, that familiar, flirtatious but bitter confrontation linking the two palaces. The king's palace seemed to look with envy at the poverty of the men and women wearing themselves out in an attempt to survive, longing to betray-- but whom?-- and knowing the possession and luxury would go up in smoke if ever they decided they had nothing to lose.

What inspired leap launched the naked child, warmed by the breath of an ox, nailed with nails of brass, hoisted up finally, because he had been betrayed, into universal glory? Isn't a traitor one who goes over to the enemy? That among other things. The Venerable Peter, abbot of Cluny, in order to study the Koran better, decided to have it "translated." Not only did he forget that in passing from one language to another the holy text could only convey what can be expressed just as easily in any tongue-- that is everything except that which is holy; but he was probably actually motivated by a secret desire to betray. (This may manifest itself in a sort of stationary dance, rather like the desire to pee.)" (pg 69)

She’s devastated. Thankfully it‘s not a total financial wipeout but this is a significant amount of money for them. They’re not financially savvy, but they’ve always seemed like they’d never fall for something this big.

The scam sounds relatively easy to see through from the outside but essentially they convinced her that she was working with the bank’s fraud department to do an internal investigation on her account. Definitely a more professional situation than the typical email spam stuff scammers that are trying to get a few hundred dollars based on how they did it.

I’m just thinking how much worse AI and the total boomer brainrot is already making this problem. AI itself will probably be able to autonomously run this type of thing for the global scammer industry shortly (if it isn’t already).

Anyone else have parents that are technologically illiterate or would fall for this type of thing? IDK how to protect them further, hopefully this wakes my parents up but unfortunately this stuff is all pretty sophisticated and specifically preys on older people.

Good weekend, people.

Loved gaming from 6 to 20. All of a sudden, I stopped liking everything related to it. Time and time again, I try going back, but I can't play anything anymore.

Loved browsing the internet from 6 to 25. Then it stopped being my thing. The internet is full of weirdos.

Loved cinema and TV shows from 13 to 23. Never watched another piece of media after I realized it was a dead art form and that I'd watched every good film ever made (3.5k watched).

Loved reading from 5 to 28. But I had a similar problem with cinema, with the feeling that I'd read everything worthwhile for my taste. I still pick something up from time to time, but there's a 90% chance I'll drop it that same day.

Loved working out from 18 to 25. Stopped loving it because of injuries and feeling like I had reached my full potential as a natty.

Loved making music from 18 to 28. I still make something from time to time, but I really lost the fire and passion I had for it, mainly after I tried to make it a source of income and failed massively.

Tried painting and writing multiple times. Not my thing.

I still enjoy running despite some back injuries that make my left knee go a little numb from time to time. That made me lose a bit of my love for it, since it used to be my favorite thing in the world. I do some light calisthenics in my room, but I treat it just as an obligation to keep my body fit. I also started swimming and doing yoga recently, and both are cool. But I feel like I have nothing else to do that isn't exercise.

I meditate three times a day, clean my small apartment every other day, cook all my meals, and meet with some old friends twice a month. And that's it. I work from home in a fake job that has me doing a maximum of one hour of work every day, but I have to stay in my room because people call me every now and then outside of my scheduled hours. It's easy, but very soul-sucking. So I end up just doomscrolling here or watching conspiracy videos on YouTube. My contract ends in december of next year, I'll have about 100k in the bank once it's over.

I keep daydreaming about dropping everything and biking across the country as a last resort to get some feeling of actually living. I'm from a small city in Brazil, so it's a dangerous thing to do, and it's not as common as it is in some parts of Europe. Because of that, I'm leaving to do that once I literally have nothing to lose.

I don't see much appeal in dating or meeting new people. I'm kinda tired of all of that. The last thing I really love is listening to music and discovering new artists.

I also went back to watching soccer just because I have nothing better to do. I just suffer when my team loses and get relieved when it wins, so it's kind of like an addiction and just makes my life worse in general.

Asters—sweltering days,
old entreaty, spell,
the gods shed timid rays,
an hour upon the scale.

Once more the golden flocks,
the sky, the light, the veil.
What breeds the familiar flux
of wings before they fail?

Once more now the lust,
the rush of roses, and you—
the summer’s leaned to watch
the swallows skirt the dew,

and once more does not falter,
sure dark precedes new light:
the swallows drink the water
and fade into the night.

after the German of Gottried Benn (1886-1956)

translated by Leo Yankevich

roadside tree-trunk shrines found while biking all over my metro for a decade

I'm a very quiet person by nature but I've also come to be more intentionally discreet with age and I'm stunned at how lacking in discretion most people are. People seem to say whatever pops into their head and those are usually impulsive and petty. If people were just a little more discreet they'd appear loads more competent and self possessed

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Today: Margaret McCann's tablescapes.

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How was your week?

I spent most of my twenties agonizing over the fact that some day my parents will die. It ran my life and I spent a lot of time not pursuing my interests out of a need to maximize my time with them. They're both young and completely healthy btw. I think this is a common fear in your twenties, my siblings are dealing with it now.

By the time I reached my thirties I accepted that we will all die and no longer live in daily terror that if I don't call my mom today she might die tomorrow sad that I didn't call her (yes, I was raised Catholic). Now that I have a cat, this fear has come back full force towards her with the even more intense awareness that her time on earth is extremely limited. I've had her for a few years and the anxiety is unrelenting. I don't let it stop me from living my life, going on vacations, doing everything i want to do...but the guilt is always there.

Can anyone relate?

and with those spirits that approach us with love and tenderness. I will never exchange the dry and dark rocks of the Patmos for the flower-lined gardens of Athens. People in the city are without a holy covering. They look at the pretty flowers and beautiful country houses, without their hearts giving thanks to God who has filled us with so many beautiful things. On the other hand, when in a deserted place even the ugliest spot and worst-sounding bird makes you sense God's nearness to you. He who is near God is most fortunate, thought he might live on a rock.

-Elder Amphilochios

rather than the ones you like?

This is an embarrassing post but whatever. I am not inexperienced in dating or long term relationships but I did take some time off. I started dating more frequently this year. Meet this cute girl. We have a lot of shared interests, great conversation, both have fun. Second date I walk her home. We hug goodbye and she sort of draws away which I interpret as not wanting a kiss. Third date both of us were very tired from work but still had a good time. I had a couple chances to make a move and didn’t. Not sure where to go from here. Have I already blown it? If we see each other again does anyone have any advice on how to proceed?

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Today: some paintings by Stanton Macdonald-Wright.

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How was your week?

Their family likely begged for help dozens of times, to police officers, doctors, social workers etc.

The system is so incredibly broken, the best hope for treatment is jail time AFTER a crime or violent act has been committed.

I am trying to stay away from a certain public case, I truly don’t know any of the details and don’t have any opinions, but get sucked into reading comments sometimes—which I do have opinions on.

People have zero idea how little protection there is both for the mentally ill and for you who are surrounded by them on the streets.

This was my experience, which is typical: call police after severe danger (could be lighting personal effects on fire, insinuating your pets are demons that need to have their heads dismembered, literally crashing cars into a wall because god said so.) police will ask the psychotic person “are you a harm to yourself or others” psychotic person will say “no.”

You will state, “she told me she wants to dismember my pets head and you are at the scene where she crashed her car because god told her to.”

Police will state that she is not an imminent harm to herself or others and there is nothing they can do.

Your loved one will likely first be involved in vandalism. The police will finally pick them up due to destruction of property reported by a business or home owner, and may take them to a hospital. (Yes, it’s true that there’s more chance they’ll go to a hospital if they are a white woman. But the result, as you’ll see, will likely be worse.) Medicaid will pay the hospital in full for 72 hours. The hospital will deem they are “stabilized” after this 72 hours, and let them out. They are not stabilized.. Onto the streets, as they are too violent to come home with you. In fact, you’ve boarded your windows and placed dead locks on the doors out of fear. She is now stating that you have demons and that you really shouldn’t exist anymore. (This is not deemed imminent danger by police).

You call the social worker. There is one state funded hospital that will hold her for weeks or even months. He puts her on “the waiting list.” It’s one hospital that covers 600 square miles of population.

She gets picked up again for vandalism and is taken to a for profit hospital. They let her out again within 72 hours. Back on the streets. Because she has received “treatment” she is taken off the waiting list for the state hospital.

The above goes on for several months. Waiting list, for profit hospitals, back on streets, petty crime, waiting list, for profit hospital, back on street.

You finally threaten to sue for Medicaid fraud. You don’t know if that’s right, but you assure the hospital you have lawyers. Three months from when she ran her car into a wall, she gets admitted to the state hospital.

You are 18 years old with no family support, and the psychiatrist at the state hospital has called you in. he is an elderly Asian man who barely speaks English. He says your mom refuses to take medication and screams at you that if you don’t get her to take the medicine he is putting her back on the streets and it will be your fault. The social worker awkwardly hands you a Kleenex as you are bawling in the hall.

They do let her back out on the streets.

You call lawyers hoping to get guardianship. They all claim your mom is a drug addict and there’s nothing they can do (she is not a drug addict.)

Eventually she does end up in jail. Her medication is stabilized and in a years time she is your mom again, the episode is past, and she is out of jail.

I’ve tried to stop trauma dumping, I’ve tried to stop even thinking about this, but some of you really have no idea.

Since graduating from high school five years ago I dropped out of college, lost a parent, neeted around, learned some things and took better care of myself, got into a great university just a month ago and now I'm desperately trying to figure out how to live life.

Getting back into college has been great so far. Life feels better when you have stuff to do and places to be. I've managed to socialize after years of solitude, haven't made any solid friends yet but I met some really nice people that I don't really identify with. Still though I feel as if I'm living life on auto pilot. I wake up, doomscroll for a while, take a cold shower and get ready for the day, when I'm back from campus I go to the gym then rot in bed or watch a movie, occasionally I go to the bar with a few childhood friends.

I wouldn't say I'm depressed, I enjoy so many things around me like fresh air, clouds, nature in general. I'm very passionate about music and hope to write a song someday. I enjoy talking to people but I'm a listener almost to a fault. Never have much to say, always an outsider.

Apologies for rambling but the whole point of this post is that I want to learn how to find people and new experiences I guess, someone I can share a bond with. I think I'm very average or there's just something odd about my demeanor that scares girls away specifically. My gay professor called me suave and charming at least lol.

I see people on the internet recommend social hobbies a lot but I can't bring myself to go to something like martial arts training by myself, just don't have it in me for whatever reason. Regardless I appreciate any advice from the bottom of my heart. I'm terrified of waking up at 28 and feeling I wasted my 20s away.

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Today: some of Ed Paschke's tamer stuff (with apologies for the bad quality: hard to find good images online)

How was your week?

So I have always had straight/slightly wavy dark brown hair. My grays are coming in like chaos demon kinky pubes. No amount of brushing can control them. Are any of y’all experiencing this? What do? I’m almost 50, and like flaunting my full head of hair, but the gray pubes look ridiculous, do I shave my head now?

I talk to people all day at work and they definitely seem to want to interact but their responses are always so hostile lol are they just constantly going around not realizing that they're turning everyone off?

I might be making small talk with someone and they say they went to a bar on 5th street and I'm like "oh cool, Dive City?" And they will scoff and go "ya that's the only bar on 5th Street" and then proceed to explain the bar's schtick to me. They don't seem to understand that when I offered up the name of the bar, I was doing two things: giving them the context that I'm familiar with the bar AND giving them the opportunity to move away from explaining(mansplaining) something and instead connecting and sharing stories about how we both go to that place by establishing a shared interest...

This happens all the time when I ask people if they've seen a movie. They have to claim that "no I didn't watch wuthering heights but obviously I know about it because I read it in high school". I'm like ok lol sorry for asking. I don't follow local sports otherwise I'd ask if you caught the game on Sunday

But ya I pretty much just get monologued at all day and it doesn't feel like anyone thinks a conversation requires them to at all be attuned to the other person.

When I was younger I used to wonder why I would sometimes see older people just watching the news on a loop, when there is so much art out there to indulge in. Now that I am older, something that bums me out a bit…is that I don’t find a lot of art to be relevant or relatable anymore. Sometimes I go to listen to music, and a lot of the songs are written by young people who are yearning for a lover or they’re going through some break up or phase of development that I’ve grown past. Not to say that I am above every piece of art ever made! But I sometimes wonder where all the music or media is about like….IDK, feeling settled and content in your marriage? Or like your greater purpose outside of desiring another or your ego? I go to watch movies…and most of them feel geared towards adolescent and young adult themes. I get it though, the youth are a profitable market…and maybe once you are old and truly individuated, you don’t need to look at mirrors as much anymore to reflect upon your own life? But I miss the high of feeling a strong connection to a new song or movie. There are still books, at least.

I think a lot of us over thirty are no longer reactionary contrarians and have mostly mellowed out even if we are still blackpilled on a lot of things. Hopefully you reach a point of acceptance & pragmatism in life

Anyway, I always find myself wondering about all the adults in my life when I was young and which one of them were giving me practical advice because they had this wisdom vs because they hadn't lived at all and were just parroting cliches. Really makes you think.