No more mandatory aestheticization for this little bird. Funny I thought I can write a tiny piece of suspenseful literature each time I would want to post here. I will now relief myself of this burden, freeing me from the rules I foolishly posed upon me and I will feel glad about it. Αμήν.
My news are: I have been maniac for almost a week now, sometimes more sometimes less. I have decided to let the madness burn in all its glory this time. Throughout all the conversations I had about the state of mind I am, I came to the conclusion that for the recent years (I think at least four but maybe it is a lot more, I am guessing it’s since I left Mytilene to go to Montpellier), each time I felt this way I had to always be restrained and have a hold of myself, not being able to release all this energy the craziness produces. But let’s take things from the beginning so I can have the piece of mind I yearn, as a watcher and an explorer of my attitudes.
All begin last weekend, on the 20th-21st of July.
I was feeling weird and trying to understand what was going on, energies were melted one into another, not only for me but for everyone else around. I remember saying out loud many many many times “OMFG why the fuck is everyone super crazy right now, how the fuck am I supposed to talk to people when they are like that, why am I the only one seeing it, does this mean I am the crazy?” – of course it was then I realised that I was also in a maddening state. However, this state, although unvisited for a very long time, it was not unknown. I felt it somewhat familiar and I was right because after letting go like Elsa in Frozen, I remembered exactly what this feeling was: It was simply me being inspired by this manic state and using all the force for things I care deeply about, for reflection, for creation, for me and my art. Until now I have been stretching and overusing (controllably or not) my inner resources, giving away just little drops of excitement, even for things I am amazed with. Those drops were indeed so little and lesser that when the rivers of anxiety were coming down strong (and those rivers have been overflowing for twenty-four months straight now), the excitement were nowhere to be found. Nowhere at all. I have even forgotten how it may feel in the first place.
So, with this renewed knowledge, I thought to myself that maybe now it’s the time to start an important experiment. I have no day-job at the moment and I will keep being unemployed and with no plans to change this status at least until Spetember and until September I have six weeks exactly. So I discussed it with all my selves and we came up with a plan: Six weeks of everyday training, on all the levels I can. Reading theory, reading literature, even some poetry, watching three to five films a week, everything, from Kyoto Animation underrated gems and early cinema history pieces like Häxan to Terminator, Matrix, some Kurrosawa, potentially some Cronenberg and, to be honest, anything that might seem interesting in between. And uncontrollably thinking on them, muting no voice my mind. All there, all free, all having something to say. I let them. More than I just let them, I listen to what they are saying and sometimes I reply too. High on weed or not. All of the above alongside with some basic core exercises for the pains of my back and some calmer tries to move my body a bit, do some walking, lifting some light weights, stretching etc. Of course then I insisted to enrich the menu with some very focused and very sentimental listening of this very broad, in terms of variety, music (from orthodox chants and black metal to pop punk and disco), hoping it can help me 1) to visualise things 2) to feel extreme feelings and 3) to inspire me and show me how to write mine better, in a more honest way, as I am lately struggling on that field. I tend to believe it worked how it was supposed to.
The schedule is made to be strict and pluralistic but I am aware that those rules and boundaries are only to be flexibly rearranged by yours truly, whenever it is deemed necessary. I know I said to myself things like “you have to read theory one to three hours a day, everyday, no cheat days” but after day one I immediately understood that this is not how the story will deploy. Today is the seventh day officially (I started to notice I am rolling down that path while I was already two days in the said mood and it is noticing that made me create the program) and I can say I am pretty satisfied with how it went down. I won’t write more about the technical data of the process, but I am keeping them logged so maybe I can make a list with everything I read or watched after the six weeks period; απολογιστική.
I don’t even know if I can keep up with this rate for the whole time, however I think I am now more willing than before to keep engaging myself with this so-called training. I have said to everyone to just leave me alone so I can focus and they have been pretty decent doing that. I also released myself from the compulsory chain of actions of having to be present everywhere, everywhere being from real life events to social media presence. No more I feel obliged to reply to a message on Facebook. I mean I feel obliged and I have all the strong urges leading to anxiety but once I say I don’t need to answer and once I actually don’t do it, everything progressively become more soft to handle. Like when you are driving and you haven’t noticed the car needs a gear shift and then you suddenly hear the engine moaning being a bit too stressful than the regular and you say in your mind “oops, sorry tiger, I’ll fix you now, don’t worry” and you press the clutch softly, the car takes a breath in agony but he knows he is safe now so you are getting to that next gear smoothly, like the bonesetter puts the bone into the right place, then hit the speed pedal leading both you and the machine under your feet to let go. There is a certain enchantment in letting go. Also there is a certain seduction in believing you cannot. Funny thoughts, funny feelings.
I wrote a song (songs are in greek, but I am thinking of trying using english soon? Maybe? Who knows), I am not going to attempt translating it now because my greek lyrics sound very stupid when they are simply recited in another language and they are far from stupid originally, but more or less it goes like this: I am talking to another person, asking from them to look at me and if possible to tell me what they see, if they are too seeing a weird blob of tangled nerves, fear and anxieties. I say to them that it’s okay to look at this almost scary complex being me but surely they cannot touch it under any circumstances because, it’s not that I don’t want to but, I am very afraid that if they do they will be lost. They will be lost because I am probably a trap myself, as I may kill them or somehow lose them as happened with anything or anyone that came close before. Or that’s the feeling anyway. I explain how I do not know how I do this or what to think about it when it happens, no other than I am a motherfucking trap. When I am at this state I cannot escape for whatever reason. And I am screaming that I am trap and nobody believes me, being dramatic and all, and then there is this last 4-lyric section that I finally become a tiny bit more of annoyed than depressed and say that I still feel like a trap although I am not even sure if I function properly as a trap, and then I beg the other person, for the love of god, to finally stop asking me if I will be alright eventually or if I will suddenly decide to hit the fucking wall and take the leap. To where? To the void which is death, I guess?
This is the first time ever I am actively engaging with my suicidal thoughts in order for them to be honestly written into a song. It was absolutely terrifying to hear myself singing those lines out loud but it felt also liberating in a way. Later, I played it for Christina and she was a bit shocked but also moved and her being able to understand exactly where this song was coming from, was more than satisfying to me; it was rewarding. We are getting some rehearsal time in the next days to build it nicely which is good because I desperately need to be in the studio, screaming my throat out like it is the end of the world.
Thus, I spent the rest of that day and the next being generally in a good mood, I even went out with Charina on Saturday night to some awkward party. I planned some band things for the next months and thought of working on earning some money to get into the studio. We even started thinking on a small tour, for next summer. Pleasant thoughts… 🙂
life is a horror film synopsis 