Yesterday I woke with a slight hangover from one wine too many the night before and spent the day scrolling, endlessly. During these past few weeks, I have developed a tremor in my thumb that emerges while scrolling or kneading dough or typing or folding socks. I thought about an article Huw Lemmey wrote about ASMR and a desire for constant input and acknowledged this as true for me but otherwise, I didn’t think much at all, which I achieved in concert with the constant input. I trawled through an article about semantic and syntactic approaches to genre film analysis which was, to me, pure tedium. I spoke to my therapist for the first time in two months over Skype and I resented the digital interface and that yet another thing that shouldn’t be happening in my home was happening in my home. I told her that I resented it. She acknowledged my resentment and pointedly tried to steer me away from talking about the frame. She wanted to know whether I wanted to continue therapy with her because I had unsuccessfully attempted to leave therapy before leaving for Australia. At the time, we landed on the compromise of a hiatus, which was now over. I never want to make the same decision more than once so I made a different one and decided to stay, for now. All my therapeutic breakthroughs are too banal to be called breakthroughs. The dahlia in the pot has lightly disturbed the earth around its first shoots to make room for leaves and stems and flowers that will very slowly begin to form, unfurl, open, and arch towards the sun. Likewise, I have lightly disturbed the earth around my decision making process such that Certain Truths have begun slowly to emerge. After the truths were partially denuded, I wrapped myself in various things: the warmth of the sun, a blanket, a hot bath with bath foam the colour of my hair (lurid green). Ate potatoes and went to bed.
Image: Dahlia by Klaus