List of things floating in my sponge dish
The brain is like a sponge and every now and then it overflows with soapy, iridescent, and frankly lukewarm water. Lately, my brain has been sitting in this soup of partially-digested feelings and half-finished thoughts.
This is an attempt to wring out this sponge.
Accompanied by three feel good indie pop songs.
Pain bad! Pleasure good! Bad pleasure! Good pain!
Goodpain by Yoke Lore
Haley Nahman’s newsletter, specifically the very perfectly written #27: The pain/pleasure paradox, has been on my mind. In it, she writes her rebuttal of David Benatar’s Case for Not Being Born.
I don’t agree though. Central to his theory is the idea that suffering is worse than joy is good, so better to not be born at all. He explains this by positing that no one would trade five minutes of the worst pain for five minutes of the greatest pleasure. But wouldn’t they? Why do people run marathons, or write novels, or maintain complicated friendships? The negotiation between pain and pleasure seems almost like an organizing principle for a life well lived. Thinking, on a micro level, of massaging a sore muscle, or scratching a mosquito bite, or putting a heating pad on my cramping uterus. Thinking, on a macro level, of finding my calling, or falling in love, or making and sharing art—all experiences which would be dulled if not for the pain that preceded them.
I write from a pretty comfy chair, but why is my posture still so terrible. Most, if not all, of my network is pretty darn privileged. Yet even with all of our basic needs met, everything else remains such a challenge. A routine grocery store run is rampant with choice overload. False consciousness greets us with slap in the face. Interpersonal dynamics are both endless entertainment and eternal stress. Is everyone also two blocks and a turn away from accidentally falling down a sewer hole of existential dread? What’s going to be the angst du jour?
As someone who is both an optimist and a cynic, it sometimes feels like everyone is suffering from one thing after another (not even including the pandemic), and I truly believe everyone will prevail.
Only questions, no answers
Pink & Blue (RAC Mix) by Tycho, Saint Sinner, RAC
Quarantine has really dissolved the physical boundaries that confine a community, and it makes me we wonder how attached I am to a singular place when half of my communities now are simultaneously scattered around the country/world and in the cloud. I have a long list of cities I’ve loved. But, what significance does a place hold when the community changes?
I recall this quote from prominent human geographer, Yi-Fu Tuan:
“Place is security, space is freedom. We are attached to one and long for the other.”
I’m interested in this tug and pull of independence and attachment but am caught between a place and a space and have nothing conclusive to share.
Some fall-y realizations, some folly regrets
Unfold You by Rostam
The basic bitch’s love of autumn has been a well-documented phenomenon since at least 2012, but maybe there’s something more to it than heathered aesthetics. Maybe it points to the necessity of change in the balance of all things. I mean, how awful would it be if summer lasted forever? We probably wouldn’t appreciate it unless we also had winter.
I’ve never considered myself a fan of fall, but for the first time in my life, I welcome it. Even so, I’m hesitant to express my inclinations towards the season because I’m not trying to be a meme. But, fall fits so snuggly without being stuffy. The air is crisp and leaves crunchy. The breeze is keen and soft. If fall means change, and change leads to innovation, then what season captures San Francisco’s spirit more? Though I don’t witness the leaves changing colors here, the city kind of encapsulates the essence of fall all year round for me. Ironically though, fall here is when it gets the absolute hottest.
Still, the western breeze makes me want to buy some new knit sweaters in muted tones, dig up my trusty Blundstones, and smell liked cedar.
And so, upon realizing the arrival of the new season, I went to dig up my favorite fall scent, Commodity Moss, and realized two truly heartbreaking facts: 1.) I only have the travel size version and it’s empty 2.) they stopped selling the brand at Sephora and I’m 1.5 years too late to this news. I suppose I could still get it on other websites, but not with two-day delivery(!?). I fell asleep the other night drowning in my sensuous yearnings and luxurious regrets.
Anyway, I had my first (iced) PSL the other day.
So here I am: just another cliché joyously crunching leaves underneath my boots and sweating in a chunky knit near you.
Thanks for reading!
Angela
All featured songs from this year in this playlist:
Looking for last year’s playlist? (they’ve moved)
Have thoughts? Let me know ❤️