I just finished a diary entry which basically amounts to how badly I wish I were a Coen Brother. I don’t really, of course, because I’d miss being in this girl body, with the mind I grew into, and I’d miss being an only child, being thirty, being , and and and.

Also, if I were to choose someone else to be, I couldn’t really choose. The whole point of being yourself is that you don’t have to make that decision: you’re already there, looking into the lives of others without needing to participate or take over the bad with the good. You have your own bad, your own good, your own messy in-between.

What I’m trying to say is that although you may think I’m pressuring you, I hope you can find a way to do things today that challenge the state you’re in; perhaps things that you’ve been putting off because you don’t feel capable.

I know that, right now, the real world seems more hostile and confusing than the conveniently straightforward and self-contained artificial world of watching people go blabla online, but the only way to make the hostility less unbearable is to remind yourself (viscerally) that you can navigate the real world too.

I’m telling you things I already know, I being you of course.

Something has broken, sure, but endlessly playing in artificial world isn’t going to fix it.

Your sense of self & your belief in your abilities can only be fixed in the real world, by doing things – with your body, your hands, your ears, your tongue, your kickedy bouncedy feet.

I didn’t sleep well, had a super confusing dream about endless water slides and the pressure to laugh and splash around when confronted with the materiality of a water park.

There was also the dream about┬ábeing a teenager who had been adopted by a neglectful vampire in Hollywood in the midst of what seemed like a makeup convention. In other words, the bout of flu I’m battling has well and truly taken over.