July 22, 2025

The biggest lie I could write here is "This isn't about you."

(Although in fairness, it isn't just about [you].) An annotated playlist.

There is a funny thing that happens every so often as a writer where certain events confluence in your life in such a way that it permeates everything. It becomes something of a fixation, a point of contention, a resolution in the making. And sometimes, you can get by with writing that for yourself. But sometimes, you want to be perceived even though being perceived is a whole goddamn thing.

One of the things I’m trying to do with newsletter (blog. It’s a blog that gets sent to you in a guise of a newsletter) is trying to honest and open and have this chronicle where my mind is at a particular time. And the thing about about this newsletter/blog is that it’s public, which means anyone could hypothetically read it, including… well the eponymous you. But this is what I want to share, and this is why abstraction as a concept exists, so may I present:

So with that out of the way, let me share what’s on this theoretical playlist.

1) “If you gave me a chance, I would take it.”

A lot of this year has been trying things. It has been leave the house at least once a week. It’s been clay work and watercolor and theater. It’s been classes and accepting invitations to bars I normally wouldn’t go and trying to find and make opportunity for myself. It’s been exhausting. It’s been partly inspired by an anime about a Japanese high school boys volleyball club.

“Opportunities present themselves to those who have prepared.”

Which is a more pragmatic way of saying “fortune favors the bold.”

2) “I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me.”

I started going to therapy this year. I wonder if you (reader) could tell even if I did not explicitly mention it. Cause I will say, I feel different. Cause I will say that I feel better than I have in years. Cause I will say, I spent a lot of my life convinced that anxiety and shame were big scary things, out of context problems to my sense of self and that goodness was a precious thing that could only be gifted and I’ve become a better version of myself realizing that anxiety and shame are just facets trying to make themselves heard and that good is something that I am because I keep choosing it and not the other way around.

The short story behind this particular impetus is the graphic memoir, Past Tense. We won’t get farther than that today.

Being a fairly introspective individual, a lot of my sessions were about contextualizing myself in the lens of another. I asked my therapist if they listened to Fall Out Boy, mainly because I think the question they pose in a fascinating one.

3) “I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam.”

Having a body and having feelings are whole things. But the big scary thing that I had built up in my head ended up just being a conversation.

Moving on.

4) “I swear to god that I’m fine.”

I don’t think this is a lie when I tell you (reader and also… you) that I’m fine. But I am also thankful to have been introduced to a pop punk band that I can turn up the volume and drown out some things.

5) “The universe works in mysterious ways but I’m starting to think it ain’t working for me.”

Some things are earned. Not sure anything is ever “deserved.” I’ve been lucky with lots of things. I’ve been unlucky with others. I’ve positioned myself well for some opportunities. I’ve squandered others. And every set back is met with “this is in service of whatever comes next.”

And I don’t think that’s a lie. But I am also not convinced that it’s the truth. But it’s something I have to believe in to get to whatever comes next.