(Went to You Me Bum Bum Train this week with my friend Yuseph. *we are recovering* . DON’T GOOGLE It or let anyone tell you its secrets, just sign up to the mailing list and pray to father christmas for tickets because the experience relies on surprise attack magic spells, and cmon its mythologising is kinda fun anyway. We have both signed Non-Disclosures and are LiTeRaLly not allowed to tell u what the fuck goes on inside there, so I am writing up and around our reactions. This is gonna be so vague unless you’ve had the pleasure of going, in which case you will read this and then immediately have a lie down once you learn you are suffering from what I am calling NARRATIVE PTSD).



have you ever seen Waking Life? or Buffy SE4E22?

I thought, cumulative moments and their predecessors, the lucid narrative. clap-clap-clap. Select Player 1: my dramatic teenage years convinced me I was the Main Character in My Life. Recently, people have said ‘good luck’ to me instead of ‘goodbye,’ and I turn away and cartoon gulp. I’m not jammy, or in the right place at the right time, and I always assumed this was arrogance, but I think I’m just noticing patterns/ YMBBT assured this again/again/again/


when you’re put on a pedestal, spotlighted, papped, and raised above everybody else, you feel like a *special snowflake* ah-and then cloud 9 gets turnT, vertigo, adrenaline, shit shit shit, and I don’t know what to do with all this power. Imploding, remembering the Friday I failed my driving test. I thought I was good at everything and the test was terminated in the first 5 minutes for ‘dangerous driving.’ I had to WALK back to the centre on my stupid human legs, and my mum was waiting for me there / all embarrassed ===


I felt incompetent and humiliated, and you fetishised that, made it feel important. 


and I felt so present! and I didn’t know I wasn’t already ? ? but in the thick familiarity, presence both challenged and secured the significance of memory, of frames, and recognition, and history. Like the red RECORDING button outside a studio, you were live and on (and hoping this isn’t being filmed lol).


In the hyperreal, I was fictional. And maybe I’ve always almost felt Main Character fictional, carrying on in this provisional self, but the YMMBT tumble was a stiff virtuality, a consequence-free dress rehearsal. That stiffness came from the very time-and-place specificity of vignettes, from the contents I can’t disclose. Those details organised a forced fiction, so live, and at SUUch a pace that I was left with nothing but my instincts:


and it all should have felt alien but inside I was very human because I knew what to do, and how to act. It should have felt Larger than Life but was precisely within life’s confines, technically non-fiction - - - and this is where you are, lying strapped to a contradiction, dreaming of a world where consequences don't matter, or one with no consequences at all, depending on your being Yuseph or Gabrielle. 


And there, we left YMBBT. Shell-shocked and feeling so done unto/so sub that Yuseph could convince me to go to the salsa bar opposite. The dancing and heat, the athleticism and the sex in that room, I thought it would help us realign with the dominant reality but it all looked so choreographed and I felt suspicious again. I thought paranoia wanted to push me away to a safer fantasy; it wouldn’t let me settle on or adjust to this consciousness; and lol it’s been two days now and I feel wonderfully detached still, alienation-liberation, which comes with confidence ye but also probably, exactly, precisely what you could call recklessness. theoretical yolo, philosophical IDGAF. i love it. 

FEB 27TH 2K16

b͓̽e͓̽s͓̽t͓̽ ͓̽v͓̽i͓̽e͓̽w͓̽e͓̽d͓̽ ͓̽i͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽l͓̽a͓̽n͓̽d͓̽s͓̽c͓̽a͓̽p͓̽e͓̽
͓̽o͓̽r͓̽ ͓̽o͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽a͓̽ ͓̽d͓̽e͓̽s͓̽k͓̽t͓̽o͓̽p͓̽

{ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔓𝔲𝔟𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔲𝔰 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔥 𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫. 𝔚𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔧𝔬𝔟𝔰 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 - 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴𝔰 𝔫 𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬 𝔬𝔫. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔲𝔰 2 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔣𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔯 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰, 𝔭𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔠 𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔢. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔰 - 𝔴𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔡𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔢 𝔮𝔲𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔭𝔲𝔱; 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔣𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢. }

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