Immortalized Thought

In this moment, I am thinking about :

When someone creates, they are immortalizing that moment. Every line in a doodle. Every word. Every journal entry. Every item of clothing. Really thinking about that is definitely intruiging. Thinking about social media in this fashion is equal parts fascinating and terrifying.

It is interesting because I find myself, and other humans, posting things on Facebook they would not in anything that might be shown to a larger audience. Whether it’s a status or a tweet or even a PM. I think I am thinking about this a lot because of how I angry I am I did not save my best friends Facebook messages properly, and the site  deleted them a few years after she died.

As I moved overseas for about a year after we became close, our messages were long and intimate in nature. If they were physical letters I would still have them. Anger is a natural part of a grieving process followed by sadness, bargaining, depression and eventually acceptance Even in acceptance, I would still keep her letters because they would be precious to me. Our online concordance was the same. But by deleting her words without my permission it was like suddenly Facebook jumped into my grieving process, something that continues to make me angry.

I know a lot of this was repressed during years of active addiction and relapse. Also disconnecting and feeling too afraid to feel, basically. Happiness could be taken away so isolation and fear became familiar allies in my brain.

Waking up from that is hard. Not obsessing about my weight is too (another unhealthy yet familiar ally). But here I am, in this sense of new awareness. What also interests me is how celebrities or political figures use social media in the same way Pepsi or Soda was said to have no class system. You basically have more access to what people you find notable are saying, or thinking, in that exact or precise enough moment in time.

I am on the fence over whether this is a “good” thing or not. I believe like most things, it is dependent on how humanity utilizes technology.  I feel like it can be very easy to get sucked into others lives as a distraction especially if you have addiction or ADD like tendencies. On the other hand, it’s groundbreaking knowing that historically significant people are expressing their thoughts in this raw, unfiltered way. Not counting public figures who have PR teams running their social media, but those who say they post it themselves, and who I am inclined to believe, anyone from Rose McGowan to Donald Trump.

That part is compelling to me because you are getting this immortalized moment from the mind of someone you know is going down in history, whether in glory or infamy.

It’s gripping when my friends post personal things because I can empathize with what they are going through and it helps to support them and identify my own emotions . I am very non-judgmental in nature so unless a boundary is crossed I am not easily offended.

At the same time, I personally recently stopped any really personal public posts. I continue using PM’s (private Facebook messages) or call friends when I want to communicate with them because I find in this digital age we are becoming increasingly socially isolated on a one-to-one basis with a fellow human.

Also, I struggle with mental health issues. All my posts are locked and I sit on them for a bit before unlocking. This was due to posting something when having a panic attack over Christmas, not in a rational mindset. You know Facebook becomes a problem when the girl involved in the real-time drama of that moment is actually fine with you yet someone who was not personally involved in the situation sends you an email saying they were obsessing over your status for 3 days and no longer want to associate with you. While I believe obsessing over anything arbitrary such as a social media status for 3 days is unhealthy (I did post a follow-up explaining the situation more thoroughly), the last thing I want to do is cause others harm by any public post. So now, I exercise caution in that regard.

I made my Facebook account at 16 and led a pretty eccentric life. Most of the people I know on a social and work level are in Europe. Because I started my recovery from addiction in NY it’s a whole new scene and set of people (most who I see regularly more, and talk to more on the phone) I don’t have many of them on social media.

To be fair, I have always been shy and socially awkward. Are you reading this from Europe, especially London? Do you find this hard to believe? Did you ever spend time with me clean and sober? A small amount of you have. Probably more are people I met at Slimelight or an after party somewhere, and I used to model and people would find me aesthetically pleasing.

It’s much harder feeling secure for me not wearing makeup in an unfamiliar country, in early recovery, and yet I am doing just that. Deliberately. Because when you spend your life obsessed with masks, rip it off and it reveals another. You forget what your face really looks like, what you feel like, your sense of self.

We walk around, so detached with our iphones and kindles. I don’t wear makeup unless it is for an event I deem aesthetically significant (like a band or event) this could be because I may attach a photo in a review later, and on some level maybe part of me will always view my insecurity as cooler dressed up in pink lipstick and a form-fitting leather jacket. I also find how others dress up interesting. Dress up and expressionism is different from a mask; but again, that could differ depending on each individuals viewpoint. I don’t have an iphone. I like walking past random shops with my dog and seeing what music I happen to hear is playing.

Once, I heard something from “Dr. Horrible’s Sing Along Blog” in South Florida and I was astounded a neighbor would have such good taste, but he said it was on Pandora. Another time, I was browsing theology books and a truck outside the library was blasting “Defying Gravity” from Wicked. I almost taped that on my phone, as it seemed so cliche as it was happening.

That random burst of happiness when the grocery store plays Chelsea Dagger as they are bagging your golden pears, or “Dancing with Myself” comes on in a shared UberPool. These are spontaneous moments I find joy in. I listen to music at home, with my laptop and speakers (I want a record player) but don’t have headphones that go with my smartphone, so I can’t listen to music on the go. Originally I wanted them, and part of me still does, for planes or in waiting rooms. But I am content enough with my books, and listening to the free music the world will burst out in around me. It somehow makes me feel more connected.

Often, in personal instant messages or PM’s on facebook, we tend to speak in this casual intimate manner. Again this is why the deletion of Cassie’s messages infuriates me so. Sometimes, every half year or so, whenever I missed her or how she would think and the things she would say, maybe more so in the beginning, I would read over our long correspondence. In her online journal and tumblr, she mentioned her many diaries but not having anyone to bequeath them too, apart from her kitty Bella, whom she did not believe would outlive her. I know her mother sold or got rid of most of her possessions when she died, which was her choice to make honestly. But it still makes me sad knowing this keen mind who had so many interesting things to say, is mostly deleted from history as her messages were deleted, as her journals were thrown away, as my own memories of her dim.

I think about the journals of Anais Nin and Anne Frank and wonder if they could have met the same fate. When Cassie died, so many knew her primarily as a model, when really that was a side thing for her. She loved literature and astrophysics and had this brilliant manner and way of thought, at times melancholic but always the intelligent psychonaut. She continues to inspire and awe me to this day not for mere atheistic’s, but the intricate workings of her mind.

This is why I haven’t modeled for a while myself, though I can certainly use the income. Shallowness bores me to tears, unless it’s drag, show-queen esq perfection everyday vanity I find irksome. This is why I write and sometimes post in such a candid, almost journal like fashion at times. Some of these started as journal entries. You could be reading, right now, a diary entry of a young woman at a crossroads staring up at the sky, wondering over her fate. Her mind is filled with tales of possession, intoxication, redemption. She could be working a scene in her head involving shape-shifting deities for her post apocalyptic novel, healing through her characters, healing through this. She could be laughing until tears gush out of her eye’s over a preacher boldly exclaiming the true face of The Devil Himself is, in fact, the pokemon Jigglypuff.

I love reading blogs or social media of people I admire, enjoy quality youtube content, get lost in books and become besties with Weetzie Bat or waltz with Morpheus. It’s all great fun for me. And so I wanted to say thank you to anyone who may be reading this, even if they forget it in a moment or so. I appreciate you for letting this moment of immortalized thought enter your consciousness. And you are great company to keep 🙂

“Let the moment go

Don’t forget it for a moment, though

Just remembering you’ve had an “and”

When you’re back to “or”

Makes the “or” mean more

Than it did before

Now I understand

And it’s time to leave the woods”


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