i have titled this ‘you have the space’ because it’s true. it’s not that long ago, and tbh i don’t even think that’s over, that i was thinking about having my own place. i wanted to buy a house in the japanese countryside. i wanted some sort of stone barn thing that was massive and all mine.
i wanted space. my space.
which is tricky to think about now, because it’s what i demand. it’s what i’ve been demanding all this time and it really hurts inside. this cry has caused me a lot of pain. this insistence to be seen.
and i think about how beautiful we are so anonymous. how life is gorgeous and frightful regardless of status and show and visibility, i guess.
it’s uncontrollable. and i know space is important. but i have space here. and there are different ways to go about getting space.
the guy at the needs assessment centre said i needed a place where i could be myself and i think that’s a dream. to be truly myself even in my own head. what would i do with my own gigantic space but sit in the same room, in that same corner of the bed, with my laptop and my phone.
the great (and possibly temporary but fuck that shit) thing about the internet is i have all the space in the world to be myself here.
and to be honest i am great at demanding for space. i didn’t like how coddled i got following my brief successes – i didn’t like how many people wanted to ride on that “help me” yes, but it’s their victory. no. i said no, and i swooped into a Great Depression but maybe that’s giving me space too.
and now, in a few days, i’m going to be going to a place where my mind will be allowed to soar. where i will be limitless and very incredibly content.
i think about my culture a lot now. my culture and space. i guess it comes back to the idea of freedom from and freedom to. i will never be alone. and i will always have love here. it can be ugly. but that’s life here. it is ugly and i’d rather not kid myself about that. there is so much beauty here, too. i don’t want to leave and “live my life” because my life is here. with you, and with my family. with all the things i have taken for granted forgetting how temporary all this is.
it’s not that i’m scared of the risks in breaking off. i mean, of course i am. i mean, sometimes i feel like i’m sort of using this as a justification for being cowardly. but these days i don’t think so.
i’ve been struggling with this life for so long i may as well make my peace with it and live through it curiously and with splendour. whatever the fuck that means.
and of course, there is more that i want to say. and delaying that is a space thing too.