PLUS, BURNING PHOTOS TO PROCESS FEELINGS. NOT JUST WITCHERY.
My point of view keeps falling and I keep building it up the old way with what I think are better bricks but they’re really just houses of cards falling and falling and falling some more. Which is the point. We are in constant flux. We ride on a crocodile’s back in the churning waters of life, in a constant struggle which really isn’t conflict at all, just our perception. Energy by its very nature isn’t static. Neither are we. Visual learner here and there’s a reason that Hindu crocodile rodeo goddess is my favorite. She never gives up. She always tries but at the same time, surrenders herself to the very real fact life is change. Constant change.
We get the same crazy in a different pair of pants until we tell that old trauma to hit the bricks. It might be a woman who reminds us of our sister, our mother, a guy who triggers you because he is just as nitpicky as your ex, or the plumber who makes you cringe because you remember your creepy uncle from when you were four. People are just being themselves and we need to allow for that, not run through life dodging every challenging situation like Super Mario on a mythical quest to save a damsel who’s probably tired of waiting anyway. Your perceptions frame your river route. If you let them go it opens up like the great Mississippi.
Case in point. Hats. I have a picture in a bowler cap from a Halloween party I went to at 22. A Clockwork Orange but everybody thought Cabaret so I was childishly miffed and drowning my sorrows in the beautiful eyes of the boy next to me. With many cocktails of course.
In the photo someone has balanced a giant wad of toilet paper precariously on top. I’m looking the other way completely oblivious and don’t realize the angle is such you’re looking at the paper while I’m smiling coyly at the cute boy next to me. Ignorant as fuck. Dancing Nancy just like my Momma. Everyone behind me is laughing. I kept that photo for years as self-flagellation. Always remember Nae Nae. Always watch your back. I should’ve burned it the minute someone handed it to me but like most folks do I laughed it off and suffered in silence because I wanted like hell to remain a part of a group I thought was cool.
So much self-hatred in a photo kept with others beloved and treasured. Those guys ended up throwing me out of their place because they got a better offer from a male friend. In the meantime let’s make fun of her. Literally pissing myself emotionally in front of everyone like I saw a girl do once literally in a living room because she thought the toilet was the couch was the toilet. Story of my fucking life. Trying so hard and someone’s got a kick me sign at the ready.
It’s probably why I don a hat as armor. A big fuck you to the naysayers of my past the people who put mayonnaise in my hair or tripped me up in the hallway or made fun of my accent, my clothes, my choices.. Change the perception, reclaim the narrative, reclaim the label. Yeah I’m a nerd girl I know it. I’m weird, I’m loud, and I like to wear loud shit. Who cares. Now I would walk in the bathroom see the wad and howl with laughter. Back then I would’ve literally pissed myself and then gone home in shame. Back then I compartmentalized the entire experience and went to the high school reunion anyway like the proper people pleasing doormat I was.
This is a lot to realize from a picture you just tore up because it was no longer useful. Although I still can’t bring myself to delete it from my phone. Life of a DJ. Sometimes I think I became one to prove I can still hang. Still be cool. Not let any of those folks, some of them with little to no tools to speak of, get to me. That’s life anyway. Nighclubs, bars, lounges, discos, kava bars are just little microcosms of the world with heroes, villains, with a million different narratives and all of Joseph Campbell’s seven heroic archetypes to boot. Why do you think I go out three times a week? Crave it the other four?
See you tomorrow. District Thursday, HER 8pm-midnight to support the all-female DJ lineup, Santos Brunch on Sunday July 16th 1pm-5pm. I’ll save you a seat, Darling. Kiss kiss. New mix up Friday. Because you’ve been very good this week. Here are some nice fish to calm you down. The Florida Aquarium in Tampa is pretty cool.