
NOVEMBER 2024
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1/11/2024
And I would like to write about how the hot water sprinkled my fingers and I would like to write about how brutally the screw penetrated the wooden structure holding it in place holding it under control holding
And I would like to write about how finding your own movement or your own voice is a philosophical trend that if there’s nothing to emancipate from emancipation becomes a measure of control a desired outcome and I would like to write about how difficult it is to let oneself change to let oneself recognize this is not what I want to let oneself just be, for a little while.
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And everything feels better after some rest.
That’s how it goes.
And I would like to write about the sea cracking up the water pouring on top of the shallow rests of ice. Write about the crackling sound and how that crackling sound overruled my thoughts of you.
3/11/2024
buy
Croissant
Coffee
Concerta
9/11/2024
And you sneaked out from each tunnel spiraled your way from the caves I bet you haven’t even been to Mordor or Bodomin Järvi. I long for a sharper analysis maybe something speculative about composition. There was black and then there was white and then some crispy woodenly strings in between. At first there was a dot then it disappeared too like all bad boys do. The aesthetic is normcore or maybe just boring truly crowd-pleasing arrives with a wow effect longing for affect but this is no affect object ask massumi he knows. He knows that spirals like those aren’t minimalistic enough. I’m sorry but you clearly don’t have the x-factor the silent virtuosity that could astonish any eliminator. Please, it’s well know the private is public and your neither. If you want me to be honest I will be rude. You’re but merely a computer and when I was seven I was told not to look at screens. Björk told me not to trust poets when they lie about screens but I look and I look and I look and it’s simply not getting better. You’re a flat drawing trying to be 3D but I see trough you - you skunk.
13/11/2024
1.
An enormous muzzle
Packman
Life of its own
To live in that soft lingering
Chilling
Enjoying
Nowhere to be
Sweet
A stomach that fits four
Eyes glooming around
Mooing around
A day in the sun
On the field
Tickling in the cracks of the clavicles
To be gorgeous,
clueless.
2
Tender buttons
Tender buttocks
Tender thoughts
All through the day
To meet with kindness is a cliche and I still feel it.
I still live accordingly. And maybe seeing from a distance it will all make sense. I like having something to long to and nothing to attach to.
I like you
Is here better?
Here is better
27/11/2024
DOG I could write how bonkers and egocentric and sad it is to have a dog and how I realized that only yesterday (and my relationship to my father will never be the same).
MOM I could write about how difficult it must be to be a mom. And how our generation should indeed remember to forgive our moms. After all, they lived fat free for a decade.
DRUG I could write about taking medication without a diagnosis and how my head went silent and calm, and I read 12 more essays than I ever have read. I never understood the mechanics of addiction, but I do now and I would happily become and addict if it means I could read a book a day and sit still for more than 2 hours without peeing myself.
ACROBATICS I could write about the importance to spend time upside down.
MINTS I could write about my addiction to Mynthon Eucalyptus and my 12-step plan to get rid of it.
EFFORT I could write about Vigdis Hjorth and about how her light approach talking tabout her alcoholism made me realise that I can indeed love those ones too and that they really try
CAFÉ ENGEL I could write about the Punajuuripihvit and their thready and raw consistency and how I’m currently spending more money on those than on rent.
OTHOREXIA I could write about how I use exercise as a method to keep an eating disorder away. Fully aware of that orthorexia is an eating disorder too, but it is so rarely diagnosed that it barely exists in the real world. And I’m a perusterve, siististi pukeutunut, reipas, nuori nainen anyway.
CAKE & COVID I could write about all the different topping on the cakes. And about how I 2 weeks before covid broke I worked at a coffee shop with a lung fever and when a customer told me we should cover our cakes I coughed on hers before serving it.
AESTHETHICS I could write about the colonial roots and still persisting aesthetics of postmodern dance.
CULTS/VOICEWORK I could write about how the only thing I have learned during three years of studying acting is that “vocal techniques” basically are different types of cults, practicing occultism in its purest form.
CLASSICS I could write about how I still consider the only intriguing definition of an essay to be “Essay as form” by Theodore Adorno and that I truly have no idea what an essay is but I did participate in a panel talk about it once where I referred to the carrierbag theory of fiction at least three times proposing that the essay could indeed be perceived as a carrierbag.
ART And I want to make art that corresponds with the contemporary times I want to make art that poses questions I want to make art that speaks for itself and I want to make art that is both rude and cute and kind and vulgar. I want to make art that encourages community I want to make art that is a part of a discourse, that proudly exists in dialogue with other art. I don’t want to make anything new or unique I want to be one smashed pea in the pea soup I want my performances to touch and be touched I want to place my traditional work in unhinged places and my unhinged work in traditional stages and I want everyone to feel welcome but I don’t need anyone to feel comfortable.