et tu, inner thoughts?

welcome back. nice to see you again.

it’s already the end of november, and everyone is starting to wind down for winter.

let’s go into this newsletter with the intent to wind down, shall we?

first off, take a moment to listen to this track:

how does that track make you feel?

sleepy? bored? melancholic? indifferent?

do you ever notice when your brain starts to transition into a state of slumber?

the image that comes to mind is a garden hose that automatically coils up into a neat pile when you let it go. during the day, you grip the host tightly, your hands refusing to let go. with your hands on the hose, the stream is neverending, spraying stuff all over the place. that’s not the focus right now. that moment when your hands are finally able to loosen their tight grip on the hose and let it return to a form of stasis… that’s what i wanna focus on.

it feels like my brain is just constantly wanting to manifest something all the time, and that ends up coming out throughout the day in various ways. manifesting a good meal, manifesting a walk around the neighborhood, manifesting a moment of solace, and so on. at the end of the day it’s sometimes hard for me to let myself sleep. it’ll take me a good 30 minutes, or even an hour to really fall asleep. when it finally happens, it feels like all of this unwanted tension is just lifted from my body. that brief moment, as i slip away into a dream, is something i cherish deeply as i get older. melatonin helps me ease into that state every now and then.

to be honest, this has been a really hectic month. i spent a weekend in vegas (more on that later), moved to a new space, and enrolled in a game writing workshop. it's been a lot to process, and i'm not sure if my body has really had the time to rest. not sure if there's even anytime this year to rest. there's a lot on my mind, and plenty that i think i could do better on. i'll be doing my best to light the fire under my own butt and keep at what i'm doing.

do you happen to be wound down yet?

it's interesting how thanksgiving has been the holiday that brought me out to the east coast. first it was philly, then it was new york. that was 4 years ago when i visited brooklyn for the first time. it feels like it's only been a week, but it also feels like it's been a decade since then. the pandemic didn't really help with the perception of time either. it all just feels like a vacuum - stretched beyond it's limits, unable to break. it'll just pull itself so thin that it'll just become what feels like an endless thread, and fall into the darkness. it makes me miss my family back in san diego. they feel very far away these days. that and the burritos.

i'm typing this entry out in the new apartment. the boiler keeps cutting out, so the place is a little too cold for my taste. the chill isn't quite in the bones yet, but it feels like it will be soon enough. it was so cold last night that i had to wear a hoodie and sweats to bed.

i like how moving gives you the opportunity to refresh. to let things go. you can rebuild yourself into a different person if you wanted to. you can build a whole new frame of reference of the world, if that's what your intent is.

i sometimes envy those that were able to stay connected to the same house that they grew up in. to have that direct access to your childhood and how tangible history can be an empowering force. it feels like i've had to let so much go that the tangible history isn't even there for me anymore. i think one of the few relics that have survived almost 7 moves is my frog and toad book that i used to read as a child. damn, is it even possible to be nostalgic for something that may have never existed?

if there's something to be thankful for, it's that i can look forward to what this apartment space can provide, and what could be manifested here if the energy is focused in the right way. i recently read gabi abrao's book notes on shapeshifting, and there was a passage that really stood out to me:

“Peace comes from detaching yourself from every moment that was too good to be true but no longer belongs to you. Keeping your arms open, you find that there will always be another fleeting moment yearning to fill your chest.”

in that sense, maybe it's time for me to release the things that aren't mine anymore, and allow something new to visit. maybe i'll manage to wind down by then.

yours sincerely,

tori-lynne