April 29/17

Dear A,

1. Sometimes I look at my face and don’t like it. Then I put on eyeliner, mascara, and eye shadow, and I feel so fucking pretty. Some people will call that empowering, and refuse to ask the real question of what was so wrong with your bare face? Of course you know this. And don’t wear make-up, which I noticed early on and rather admired. I do think make-up can be innocent and fun at times, but ultimately, it’s such a shackle to what women are supposed to be.

2. Weight. I’ve lost weight. It’s good. I want to lose more. Is that bad? It can be. I don’t know. Some of it is the fake social power of thinness. Some of it is wanting to be crazy strong and do wonderful athletic feats. That’s fine. That’s good. It’s genuinely empowering. But I’ve never believed I could be happy or loved without a flat stomach, or close to. That’s not good.

3. I feel so shitty about writing. I am a whiner.

4. I need to stop expecting more from my parents than they can give. They wanted a child who was easy to understand. Predictable. Safe. Sane. I am none of those. Thank goodness…

5. I got knocked in the head super hard yesterday in boxing. It hurt well into this morning. We are such delicate beings. And power that can be concentrated in a punch is so immense. It’s fascinating, what we are physically capable of. That alone seems to give life meaning.

6. I got a Tim Hortons bagel today. Not very good. The chive flavour was very fake. They did however have Nutella croissants, which I believed to be discontinued but it appears that was only at the one location near my old work.

7. This was Week Three without a job. My mom was watching Oprah videos on YouTube yesterday, who was talking about being young and confused and finding her way. I have always believed in getting lost and being challenged and taking the road less travelled (yes, internet, I know that’s not what he means in the poem, but the misinterpretation has become more powerful than the intended, which is interesting) but in doing so it feels stupid, and I feel so afraid of being a complete and utter failure. Which is odd. I’m not. I want the end of the story, where I *make it* to be now. But what I really want is to enjoy now. Which I am doing and am good at doing until fear creeps in and then I doubt my faith and I’m doing well by listening to my intuition and just seeing what happens.

8. I’m afraid that hope sounds trite. That I sound trite. I’m always afraid of being laughed at. What can I do with my shitty self that’s valuable? How can I create something valuable? What is valuable about writing? That used to be a no-brainer for me. Now it’s a vacant plain, gentle sand dunes being blown about. Value. Why can writing matter? What is the writing I believe in? Why do I care anymore? Why did I ever?

9. Blah blah blah, me me me. How is Warsaw? I want pictures of all the food I will have one day.

10. I hope my tax return comes soon. I need the money.

11. I want to tear the throats out of everyone I know. I want to slaughter the world. Eyes are the feet of the head. Kick down the world with your vision. One of a series of fake Proverbs I wrote last summer. Don’t throw bread at your mother. Only salt can do that. A favourite nonsensical one. They were all nonsensical.

12. I have not written much. I am not trying. I usually feel feeble and pathetic but then everyone tells me I’m doing fine, if not well. Which is strange. What do I trust?

13. Those workshops at UBC were truly horrible. I can hear the ghosts of those voices challenging the legitimacy of everything I can conceive of portraying. Those students. They felt so entitled to comment on worlds they knew nothing about. I know if they had read our stories under the impression that were published stories by esteemed writers they wouldn’t have had much to say in terms of criticism. They would have danced around the things they were ignorant of, instead of riding in valiantly on their presumptions and estimations. I wish I could explain these settings better to outsiders, i.e. anyone else reading this blog. Basically, most university students are as entitled and self-centered as you may already believe. A few really aren’t. The few who’ve ever had to work for anything in their lives. Ever had been crushed by the necessity of self-reliance and has respect for the kindness of others. The time and work that others give. Surprise, surprise, valuing other people makes you less of an asshole. My whole time at university felt like when in Titanic Jack has dinner with Rose and her society. UBC was Billy Zane. Vancouver is Billy Zane.

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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