52 Notifications From Hell
Collected Agenda #36
WHAT I DID
Monday, February 24
David's friend wore a shirt that said RESIST COCAINE last night, and he made us steak, spinach, cashews, wine. It was lovely, imbibing on the floor in this smokey room. And there are many grand plans, and I believe most of them will come true, and I was struggling to begin the day but now the evening floats on and on all weightless.
"C. said the best thing about living with me was the blade runner type atmosphere created by all the smoke from my steak fixation," David's friend says.
And there is a lot of smoke, and it is in a nice way. A cozy night and I was home not too late in truth although it felt later than it was, slipping onto the couch and falling into black sleep the second we arrived back at the apartment. The falling asleep was nice too, and more annoying was waking up at two, four, six am and then you decide it's late enough. The day begins. I was writing by hand during this wistful restless sleep last night - notes of little coherence, notes of: I am so lucky to have been raised in environments of normalcy. not regarding aesthetics even but regarding, having normal fucking morals, seeking to live a life that is good, avoiding the gamble of turning insane or, evil. The guidelines that compose a moral compass are blurrier in general these days, but I should seek more of this, the normalcy that is. I should not crave chaos in this way. I should not resent anyone who seeks tranquility, politeness, who seeks to sleep and wake early.
But I like this other thing too, this sense of a fugue state, flow state, whatever. It's utterly consuming. In the real world, I am trying to articulate how detached I am sometimes. Either that, or I'm trying to make sure you don't catch on. I'm not sure if all of this is good or bad. I'm becoming smarter and more Serious and I'm very sincere in wanting to make good works and be conscious of the state of my body and soul and the state of yours too and also, and I hope I'm not becoming too annoying.
Tuesday, February 25
I tried to work with video this morning, a return to my roots as a health and wellness vlogger, but it mostly made me want to kill myself. I smoked my last cigarette ever last night by the open window, by the basil plant, David didn’t get home until late and I was having fun with my old canon G7X and with my cigarette and then I tried to film a conversation this morning, and it made the whole conversation so stilted and dull, I think it ruined the conversation, really, and so now I never want to document anything visually ever again. I thought I was going to pass out at the gym, but I didn’t. I thought I was going to scream because David keeps borrowing that wonderful yellow and navy rain jacket that my dad found washed up in the beach, and I don’t want my boyfriend parading all around New York in my special jacket, even though it doesn’t fit me, even though I never wear it, I don’t care, I was feeling possessive. And then the sun comes out, and so Natasha and I spend the morning at Fanelli Cafe in the sun. Coffees until I feel even more sick but it’s not in the worst way,
And then at night, there is the birthday at Kenka. Oh, David says, the BDSM Japanese place in the East Village, and it’s true, yes, that when you arrive, there are the automatic shopping mall style sliding doors and the mannequin of the woman bound and gagged and the cotton candy machine. And it's on that crazy street in the East Village with all the halloween stores. The girls next to me are talking about shooting their movie. And we'll need skeletons, they are saying, where are we going to get skeletons? I think about my fathers collections of strange bones, wondering if I can find anything to contribute, but (most) of those bones are not human, and he comes by them in strange and obscure places regardless, and then I think about suggesting the strange halloween stores down the street, but I’m eavesdropping, really, and they come to these conclusions all on their own. Party City, they are saying. We can just get the skeletons at Party City.
Wednesday, February 26
I wish I was a bit more consistent in keeping the promises I make. The promises to myself mostly but there are promises to others, sometimes, too.
And there is this duality of desire for nostalgia and acceleration and I find them both repugnant on the larger level but then I see them both in myself, so strongly in myself, all these distance edges of extremities so rawly on display within my own mind, which I have been trying to have integrity with, btw.
And it hasn't been so bad, really. There was walking eight miles in sunshine today. The schoolyard animal cookie ice cream from Morgensterns and I order it with the lemon jam and sometimes cherries. There have been a few false starts. Which is why, I think, I've been ranting so much about the ebb and flow of it all, but there is equilibrium, too. Some proximity to this equilibrium, at least.
Thursday, February 27
Matthew imagines a situation and he tells it to David wherein; David is in heaven, and I am in hell, but in this version of hell, they let me keep my phone. “and she’ll ruin heaven,” Matthew tells David, because she’ll just keep texting you, “it’s so warm down here David, they made it too warm down here!!!”
The other part of this joke, Matthew explains to David, is that in this heaven, “you’ll be surrounded by beautiful, adoring, women, but there will just be this barrage of texts from Chloe, constant, never ending, about how awfully terribly warm it is down there in hell.” The cosmic joke of it all, of course, is that our varyingly unpleasant respective situations in this hypothetical story will both, unfortunately, be utterly eternal.
Last night was the night for Being Freaked Out. Tonight is the night for Being Calm As Can Be.
WHAT YOU SHOULD DO
Friday, March 7
I missed the Foreign Domestic opening this week, but I am planning to visit God alone loves all things and he loves only himself before the festivities of the evening. Works by Alex Both, Joan Dillon, Kylie Mitchell, TINMANTIS.
From 7pm at Drink More Water Store (9 Monroe St) — Rina hosts The Curse of Medusa, single release party. DJ sets throughout the night, tarot readings, and drinks at the bar.
From 10:30pm - late — Bassiani night at BASEMENT - “highlighting the kinship between Bassiani in Tbilisi, and Basement in Brooklyn.”
From 11pm - late at Casa Bella — Caroline Calloway, Betsey Brown, and Peter Vack present - A Rachel Ormont Afters! The prior screening at The Roxy is unfortunately sold out, but I’ll be at the afters and you should be too! Hosted by soooooo many people! Mike Crumplar, Cassidy Grady, Kareem Rahma, Nick Dove, Sierra Armor, Elena Velez, Perfectly Imperfect, Matt Weinberger, Finlay Mangan, Riska Seval, Humblesuperstar, Poorspigga, Meg Superstar Princes, Andrew Norman Wilson, Charley Shealy, Rylee Stumpf.
Orson is taking over Jean’s all night long
Saturday, March 8
From 3pm - 6pm at Brookfield Place — Hard to Read invites you to THE MALL. Co-hosts include Asya + Santi, Fiona Duncan, Naoimi Asa, and Vivien Lee. - “THE MALL is not a reading or a formal talk. We have nothing to sell. Come loiter with us.”
From 10pm - 2am at 154 Scott BK — Crazy Girl release party ft Callie Reiff, Raquel Michel, and DJ Shawty.
From 10pm - late at 127 Mulberry Street — Club Cooke returns. Hosted by Julia Cooke. Also hosted by Quinn Bentley, Jamian Juliano-Villani, Jenny Borland, Paige K.B., Precious Okoyomon, Billy Grant, Genevive Goffman, and Ser Serpas.
Sunday, March 9
From 7pm at KGB (Red Room) — Mind Palace Poetry presents Spring Forward. Hosted by Carson Jordan, featuring Melissa Broder, Dorthea Lasky, Riley Mac, and Shy Watson.
From 8pm at KGB — Confessions is hosting an Open Mic. Daylights savings addition. What does the coming sun bring out in you?
This is good