12/11/22

I'm so cranky. Grr, I'm a grumpy little man. I have no control over my life and no thing to be happy about. Woah is me, am I right?

 I don't understand how people can be talented. Or just skilled. I think there was some major karmic collapse when I was born and everything just went incorrectly, resulting in the biggest blob of wasted potential, mindlessly meandering around the cosmos waiting to be given even the smallest shred of purpose. But I know it's possible. I see people all the time waking up and starting their days. They go to work, and the gym and they eat a healthy breakfast made of stuff you shouldn't eat for breakfast like beef or carrots, they get in the cars that they've had since they got their license at 16 and they drive to the cafes with the baristas that I'm too scared to order from. They buy groceries from places without damaged cereal boxes and only stock their fridge with ingredients. They go to dinner at restaurants where the prices aren't even marked with real amounts and drink wine with the partner they met the Summer after high school. Then at the end of the day, they get out the iPad with the apple brand pen and sketch out some design ideas even though they learned how to sew three weeks ago, they've already designed a 6-look collection and plan on bringing it into the physical world by the end of January. They email museums and consignment shops for internships over the summer that they'll have the balance with the part-time job they already have but plan on keeping, and their professors all believe they're capable of going far. On the weekends they get drinks with their friends and dance in clubs they're too young to get into, and when they get home they do their skincare routine and fall asleep on silk pillowcases because Brad Mondo said it's better for your hair.

 I still can't quit vaping.

 I blame myself. I blame my head for not shutting up for longer than an hour, or at least never when I'm sober. I try to do productive things. I wake up early and go to work. I go to the gym for an hour and awkwardly avoid eye contact with any man more than 4 inches taller than me. I take a quick stroll to my favorite café and tell the barista "you too" when they say "enjoy your coffee". I skip breakfast and instead compile outfits I like but will never be able to wear. I clean my room while listening to a Family Guy episode I've watched a thousand times play in the background and take breaks in the bathroom to cry to a Leith Ross song. I make dinner out of the same box of pasta I've used for the last three days and smoke my brain into mush. I shower and avoid looking down to see how my body curves and folds, pushing suds into my skin in a last attempt to scrub away the disgust I feel when I see it. I brush my hair and leave the broken-off ends lying naked in the sink, and put on a final layer of concealer out of fear of seeing what the day has done to me. I scroll on Tiktok and see the people born into wealth gain the traction Id have to fight 5x as hard to get anywhere close to, and that little bit of motivation I felt at the start of my day to make something of myself curls away and hides with all the pins I've put in my future plans. 

I don't know what I'm doing. Part of me wants to believe this is just college, cause everyone says they don't know what they're doing. Everyone shit posts on their Snapchat stories about how they're going to fail their finals, drop out, and why did they pick the major they chose. But I feel like I'm the only person I know who truly is lost. I have so many plans and things I want to do, and a lot of them aren't even unrealistic, but I have no idea where to start. I need an internship, but lord knows I'm not going to find one good for my field in fucking Phoenix. I think I just need to start making stuff again. I know that's when I feel the best, I know that's what I want to do, but I spend so much time doing everything else, for someone with so much time I don't feel like I have any at all. What's making it worse is that I literally turn 20 in fucking 15 days. 1 5. Fifteen. The end of my teenage years and the start of actual adulthood. I don't want it. I'm so scared of aging, not out of fear of looking old, but I already feel like my best years are fleeting, if not gone, what the fuck am I going to do in my 20s? I don't drink, at least I don't enjoy it. I refuse to continue vaping, like being 23 and owning a vape would be so embarrassing, I don't wanna smoke every day anymore but it's so hard to sleep without it. In my head, I'm aware that 99% of my fear is completely constructed in my brain. it's not like I have to quit smoking, act more mature, or change anything about myself. But... I do. I've seen and experienced far too many grown-ass men who refuse to mentally mature past 18, and as much as I wish that could be me, I  refuse to be grouped in with them. If I end up anything like Sutter I'm killing myself immediately. You can hold me to that. 

However, I think what's weighing on me is the state that the fashion industry that I'm about to head into is in. I'm not going to touch Balenciaga. I hated them before, I still hate them now, I know nothing about the situation beyond what happened to that poor photographer, and as much as I doubt that Balenciaga is the human trafficking conglomerate that people are saying they are, what they did to Gabriel Galimberti is enough to think they're bad people, if not just fucking stupid. I'm stressed because, at this point, every fucking person thinks they're involved in the fashion industry, what's more, most of them have the money to be. When I decided on fashion as my major, my thinking was that I would be a perfect fit within the program. I have years of experience under my belt, before going to school for it. I spend hours researching different subjects and reading articles, granted not as frequently when I'm in school because of how much of that I have to do for assignments, but I still do sometimes. I know shit. That's what it boils down to. I know things about fashion and the industry, base-level things, but things that most people outside of the area of practice would not know. But knowing shit doesn't get you very far. I can sew, but like, so can everyone else now? I don't know since when did men start sewing this shit is so annoying. 

I'm, not 100% sure if I've discussed this on the blog before, but I'm going to quickly summarize my five-year plan and then explain why I'm so, intimidated isn't the right word but turned off of fashion because of how overexposed it is. So my plan is I'm keeping the job I have now through next semester. It's not great money, but the hours are easy, I can do my homework on my shifts, and looking for a new job is a pain in the ass. Then I'm hoping to spend time over break researching different opportunities for the Summer. Ideally, I would like to work somewhere where styling is prevalent, but I'm keeping my options open. I know my friend interns at the Phoenix Museum of Art, I could do something remote, which is very likely considering my options, ideally something with writing. I can't relocate which sucks, as much as I'd like to it doesn't make sense, and I'm not eager on paying rent for an apartment I'm not living in. Then Id like to keep working in that or a similar establishment that I can stay with until I graduate when.... drum roll... I'm moving to Toronto. Originally, I wanted to move to New York. Anyone whose known me for more than a year knows it's been my dream to live in NYC since I was like 10. But this is why I'm so concerned with my future. I don't have faith that I can bring anything new to the table. Do I think I have good taste? Sometimes. I can pick out things that look cool, which is why styling is so interesting to me, but at this point, I'm, not a talented enough seamstress, or designer to go to the fashion city in the US and become something. So, Toronto feels like a safer bet. Less populated, less desirable, and less overexposed by people like me trying to make it in the industry there. This ties me into the frustration I've been experiencing with my degree choice. Fashion becoming such a desirable field in recent years has resulted in, as I said, overexposure. Fast fashion is releasing like 50 seasons a year now, big fashion Haus is losing their fucking minds, and every fucking rich plan with a trust fund owns a studio in LA or NYC that they make Pacsun-level puff-paint sweaters out of with some kind of text that reads "disturbed" or some dumb shit like that, and now I'm in a position where, even though I hate it, they are more successful than I am, and it feels like shit. It feels like shit not because they're better, but because I know I can do better than what I'm doing now and it just isn't working. 

This has been a weird post. 

I'm done. The media of the week is SZA. Nothing by SZA specifically, just SZA in general. I fucking knew I KNEW, Kill Bill was going to be a good ass song, the second I saw the title that shit resonated and I was so right so everyone says thank you Mommy SZA. Gone Girl is also so good. Like so good. ALSO, FUCK EVERYONE who says F2F is not a good song, you're fucking stupid, you don't understand, its the same bitches who didn't like  Rico's last album. Fucking twink on TikTok comparing it to Tayler Swift and Olivia Rodrigo actually pissed me off. Like its one thing to have actual critics of art that involve constructive and analytical thinking, but the only thing that proves is you literally don't know what you're talking about. Die. 

This has been Christian Reid moaning and crying and being a bitch. Signing off.