Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Press Conference, 2001

No extravagant words. No description. I just feel confused and lost. Maybe that's a good thing. I'll find my way back somehow... Some way.

Angelina Jolie by Michel Bourquard; 1994

Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910-1913

where am I? now not bodily. Mentally I need to realize where I am at. How am I still breathing above the tide? I sense like I am suffocating in my very own doubts. My very own doubts are to strangle me into some other realm if i'm not careful.

So where does that depart me now? Itching for ink, itching for a experience of comfort. where's my stash? that's what I need. To open that stash, put on that record, and inhale life through a haze that's not me—however a part of me. Yeah, I have gone back on my phrase and who the fuck cares. I need to know who I am and where the fuck I am.

My future self will shake her head in disappointment. And i'm able to shake it together with her— I want a way out, a way in, a place to belong. an area in which I don't experience as if i'm drowning in myself.

Every day is unique. Nothing will ever be the same again. Even the similarities will never be identical. Both tragedies and joys will never fall on the same plain again. And why are we so adamant about refusing something we've written and are familiar with?

When we had a very lovely day. When something excites us. When the day welcomes us with its silkiness and softness. We grow fixated on the idea that each day will be identical to the previous one. All of the fortune cookie wisdom vanishes.

As a result, each day is unique. Why is it so difficult for us to live each day in this manner?

𝑀𝑦 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑢𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑑. 𝐴 𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠. 𝐿𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑢𝑛𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑. 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝒉, 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑. 𝑆𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡. 𝐼 𝑎𝑚... 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑? 𝐷𝑖𝑑 𝐼 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒? 𝑁𝑜𝑝𝑒. 𝐴𝒉, 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝒉. 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝒉, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑏𝑦 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐.

Angelina Jolie, Oscars 2000

It's my mind... It's my mind. I'm drowning. I'm drowning... Please help me. Someone help me. Can I help me?

𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒.

—𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞.

Day 1: I'm amazed at the beauty of it. Culture seems to be a living thing. To exist here, right now. Am I... on the line?

Day 2: He is the muse I find in perfect harmony. How can a man be as captivating as himself? He will never grow tired of photography.

Day 3: For my part, I intend to see what has never been seen before. I hope my life continues on this path. So I write this. A hymn? Perhaps.

𝑇𝐵𝐶~