Listening to Melanie Safka because I reblogged an illustration yesterday that contained some of her lyrics and gosh, it’s nice. Making me remember all the folk artists I liked to listen to when I had speakers outside of my laptop that made music sound like music.
I haven’t listened to a lot of music in a while and I don’t know why; I think because it’s easier to pay attention to what’s in my head than stuff outside it but I think it might be something to do with the lack of equipment.
Same with playing. I got a fancy new synthesiser for birthdaychristmas a few years ago but no amplifier so I have to use headphones and it’s horrible horrible to play like that and I just haven’t played. And I remember how playing made me feel and I miss that a lot, and it’ll take me months to get as good as I was and I’m in a block of flats now so I’ll have a lot of neighbours as an audience.
Music used to be such a big deal to me, like I got a guitar for my sixteenth birthday and learning to play it gave me a focus that saved my life, but that guitar is 200 miles away in my teenage bedroom, so is my half-a-synthesiser and guuuuhhhh I just want a place I can have all my things in.
Sometimes people are so mean and don’t realise it then you point it out to them and they get defensive and meaner.
I guess in a way pointing it out is mean because it is going to make them feel momentarily bad and that’s why people get defensive. There is a difference though and I’m trying to get it straight in my head.
Like, I struggle with anxiety and I’m about 90% sure I have Asperger’s syndrome (currently getting a diagnosis) and I pointed out at work that people weren’t being so sensitive about it and it made people feel bad, and then I got into trouble for making people feel bad and now I feel so bad and it’s been months and I still feel horrible about it. My boss said to me that I was making my bad feelings more important than theirs and :( yeah.
And like, having a discussion on Twitter with people about how ‘correcting’ people’s language use makes those they’re correcting feel bad. People get defensive, saying people are ‘ignorant’ and ‘stupid’ for not knowing the standard language. Some people don’t know what’s standard. Some people don’t care. Some people can’t adhere to the standard because of learning difficulties. And whichever it is, it doesn’t matter. There isn’t a ‘right’ form of language, just variations, and pointing it out to people makes them feel bad. A lot of the time it’s not even any of your business. And everyone knows more than you about something and they’re most likely not making you feel bad for not knowing about that right now.
Okay so I’ve had a bunion on my right foot since I was 12. It’s always been a pain and painful but the pain’s become worse this year. I went to the hospital with it last week and the doctor there told me it was quite an advanced bunion and I’d benefit from surgery. And I have another appointment in January where I’ll confirm whether I want surgery or not.
And I honestly cannot decide what to do. I’ve had problems with it for half my life, and I am so bad at noticing when I’m in physical pain (until it’s gone and then I feel awesome) that I feel like it’s a really unnecessary procedure. On the other hand, it’s a physical deformity. My feet don’t fit comfortably in any shoes - I’ve currently got very wide ones and they still rub - which means that yes, I am uncomfortable all the time. But it feels like a mainly cosmetic thing even though there is pain and I’m like, there are so many other people who need surgery more urgently than I do. And I don’t think deformities are inherently bad.
Also surgery is a scary thing to me that I’ve never had before and bunion surgery is especially gross (they SAW THE BONE and you don’t always get a general anaesthetic) and ugh.
So yeah, tl;dr I think logically I need the surgery but I would feel guilty for getting it. My thoughts and feels never correspond.
The launderette is so full of promise: the cottony cocoony warmth, the mingling smells of the dryer and washing powder, the whirring of machines (“it’sOKit’sOKit’sOK”). But the reality seems different. Everyone there seems to be so grudgingly; out of necessity. It’s a chore and so enjoying the experience is deviant. It seems frowned upon. There seems to be a launderette community that I am not privy to. “You are not one of us”, the following stare of the man in sunglasses and the sudden silence of the chatting couple on the bench say. It’s okay; I will wash my duvet in the bathtub.
Whoops I guess I’m non-ironically interested in clothes now. I think because I’ve realised I’m more comfortable in skirts than trousers and I’m happiest in colours and matching them is harder than matching shirts and jeans which forces me to think about what I’m wearing.
I’m not even ashamed. Fashion is dismissed as some frivolous thing because it’s a predominantly female interest which says a lot about the patriarchy. And I think I’m guilty of feeling like that in the past because I thought fashion was all about caring too much what other people think, when my choice to look like I didn’t care was exactly that; when really, I and everyone who buys clothes makes a judgement about their tastes and what other people will think.