pseudo-intimacy, mortality and fingernails 🅴
why does asking for somebody's phone number feel so intimate?
its 8:52 pm on a monday, im sitting on my couch listening to mitski, chewing on my fingernails and letting my mind run wild. i hate asking for peoples phone number, its so fucking scary. maybe i just have problems talking to people. no, i do have problems talking to people.
usually when i ask for someone's number, i always have to sneak some stupid reason for it. like for instance, the last time i got a friend's number was because i had a dumb fight video my friend wanted to see. my go to reason is always "hey, can i have ur number? i wanna play imessage games". when i was in middle school, i used to walk up to people and start singing for their number, some song i forgot about. so fucking stupid.
i wish i could just talk to people like i want. its like my mind wont let me. there's probably a reason and god just wont tell me. i need to shut the fuck up about god, i'm atheist. and i need to stop saying fuck.
i also want to talk about mortality. i was sitting in history, and i started choking on my spit for about two minutes. during those two minutes, i was so uncomfortable that i genuinely thought i was going to die. i was on a plane during the end of last december, and my ears were hurting as the plane was landing. sharp pain was spreading from my ears to my mouth, and for the whole 10 minutes that i was in pain, in my head all i was thinking was "let me die, let me die, let me die" on loop. during the summer, i broke down and begin a process to change who i am. to better myself, in cleaner words.
i started thinking, nothing i ever do is gonna matter. we all are gonna die, and there's gonna be a new generation with chatgpt implanted in their brain, having playdates with their labubus and consuming dubai chocolate everything. why should i care about what my impact does? it's all gonna wither away faster than the earth at our rate, politically and in terms of our climate.
and then i thought, you know what? i'm wrong, it does matter. even if it doesn't matter to the next generation, it matters to ours. what i do makes an impact, whether i see it or not. every outfit i wear, every word i say, every move i make. it also makes an impact on me. people only see me for a limited time. i live with myself forever, through all the ups and downs and all the changes. or at least until i die naturally. or kill myself, but that's another story. i'd also wanna make myself happy. how i express myself, how i eat, the people i surround myself with. and if no one else sees me, i'd rather die happy knowing i tried my best than be unhappy in the background, unimportant, conforming to the capitalist patriarchy, stuck at the bottom of the pyramid with no way out. that's no way to live, and i never will.