A Man on a Pony

I’m chilling at home. I’ve been watching Chernobyl and FUCK IT IS SCARY omg. I’m only finished the second episode. But it’s like, so overwhelming to think about. At least episode 2 wasn’t as grisly as Episode 1 where people’s bodies were disintegrating from the radiation.

I was also watching Gentleman Jack and I watched an episode last night and was like “Wait why is she beat up?” “When did her girlfriend go nuts?” “Last time they were just hanging out and she was hitting on her whut whut whut?” Ha ha yeah anyway HBO just automatically plays the most recent episode for you, so I skipped ahead like, three episodes. Missed the courting almost entirely. Total bummer. Gonna have to go back and BE MORE CAREFUL next time when I watch an episode.

That’s a good rule for life really, for me anyway, BE MORE CAREFUL! I’ve found myself sort of crashing through situations and people more recently. And sometimes saying shit when I should just shut up. Like especially around/about cuties. I did have a breakthrough in communicating with someone I am going on dates with tho, because I really realized I FUCKING SUCK at texts/messages/chats. I’m like a million times better at talking with people in real life, face to face. I mean not when there’s a crowd around, but like one on one getting to know people or being cute with them and being able to read their signals goes way better in person than through these fucking texts. Like I have had people tell me in the last year that I am overwhelming in messages/texts, or sometimes I don’t know if someone is happy to hear from me and get worried BECAUSE of those people who told me I was overwhelming them, so then I fuck off and feel shitty about myself and probably make them feel shitty too if they actually did like hearing from me. I’d really just like to go back to talking on the phone honestly, that was a million times better. Or handwritten perfumed letters sent with pressed wildflowers inside delivered by a man on a pony. SOMETHING! Omg I need like, a wax seal or something, with a wiener dog on it.

I mean honestly tho if someone doesn’t want to see me face to face hardly ever that should be enough for me to know not to carry on. Although to be fair one of these people lives far away. Ughhhh.

I DID have my _personals_ ad come out on Instagram tho, which was cute. There were some cuties following me. I’m trying to be open to the future. Who knows what will happen. Maybe I’ll fall in love with someone far away who will send me perfumed letters with pressed wildflowers and four leafed clovers inside. God I love that shit. I used to be like, such a romantic, and now I just feel like I’m looking in the wrong places. Like, maybe play parties and bathhouses are not the right places to look for a wife. Ha ha omg I feel like a butch Carrie Bradshaw writing these sorts of blog posts. I’m sure my career is more interesting than this.

My career is fine. There’s some press coming out now about the Indigenous film program I am in at the Whitney, because you can see it now if you go to Yale Union in Portland Oregon. I got a check from them the other day (obligatory American spelling) with a gerbil and a chinchilla on the stamps, so cute.

I love mail. All my mail is bills and artist fees. The artist fees are lovely, I always love those. But handwritten perfumed letters with pressed wildflowers and four leafed clovers delivered by a man on a pony would be really appreciated.

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