I had my boyfriend who smokes use matches for a few days instead of a lighter and record the date and time and whatever he was thinking about while smoking.
It’s funny that he quit smoking a few weeks after this project.
Do you remember what the wind tasted like that day? The way it moved so strong you could see clear to the horizon line. And it whirled down your esophagus and filled your lungs as you cried for better days.
Do you remember the way the sun looked through the trees that day? The way the hair played on your face. The way you felt when you finally gave up on searching for greener days and gave in and screamed I am okay I’m okay I’m okay !!!!
Looking back, I can’t believe how beautiful the images I was making as young teenager were. I was using the cheapest film I could get my hands on and getting it developed for even cheaper, using mostly a questionable Vivitar SLR and eventually an Argus C3. These photographs are nostalgic for a time in my life I don’t really want back, but I wish I could shoot as freely as I did back then.
have you ever heard someone say that january was their favorite month? if they did, you probably heard wrong. no matter where you are, january is bitter because you’ll remain disloyal to your resolutions and the 12 months prior are still biting at your ankles. for the last eight years, i’ve spent my new years eve making lists of the scabs my body has dried out and plans to avoid scarring but i wake up every new years day to the nauseating realization that i’ve still got two and a half months of seasonal affective disorder to endure.
has anyone ever told you that sadness isn’t a disease? if they did, they might be dyslexic. the worst of it is over now and i know this because tomorrow is april first. i’ll always be a fool but the joke isn’t on me anymore. i could laugh and cry and vomit and hyperventilate if i think back to what i was a year ago today. no, really, i can’t fucking believe it. i was sleeping on the floor of my new apartment, without a bed or desire to care. i acquired a taste for seven hour naps in the middle of the day which led to me failing a class. i couldn’t read books without connecting each letter to spell your name and then ripping the pages out. i cried so hard i gagged myself into manic fits. this last year swallowed me whole and for far too long, i didn’t want to be thrown up.
has anyone ever said that time heals everything? if they did, they probably didn’t realize that time is just something a clock was built to read and people aren’t clocks. time didn’t help me heal, but i also can’t really tell you what did. i guess what no one tells you about sadness is that even sadness gets sick of you. after 8 months, the sadness just, sort of, stopped. i breathed. i learned how to love myself without justification. i took the subway by myself for the first time today (and i’ve lived in the city for nearly 3 years). i know how to watch someone else floss their teeth and not immediately hate what they might have stored behind their molars. once i faced my biggest fear while drunk, i knew i could handle it sober.
it’s almost april, and i’m not depressed anymore. i haven’t been for a few more months than i’ve admitted to. tomorrow is my new year but i’m not going to write about the bad parts of last year anymore. they can stay put where they were. what i will write about is being okay. i’m okay with the skin around my bones, and the extra skin around that skin. i’m okay with not knowing what my art means. i’m okay with being wrong and being right and being in between the two. i’m okay with being okay because i won’t be okay forever. and the next time someone asks me how i am, i am okay, really. i am."
this is a formal petition to change new year’s eve from december to march and new year’s day from january to april.
Snow (via lolsnow)
F.Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (1920)