Everything can be horror
[Everything between September 22 and the day of publishing this]
Kumarakom, Kerala, India
Data
Eggs eaten of different species: 2 (Quail and Hen)
Library visits: 2
Books read: 3
The difference between a rom com and a horror movie is editing and colour grading. Life is similar.
With only a few hours in a pool, I have managed to build a tan that will change the look of my pictures for months to come. This tan makes me happy and guilty, for it is not from hard work or even the mundane ritual of standing in school yards. It comes from relaxing every single cell in my body, from floating like an empty barrel, like a toy boat made in China, like a purposeless monkey in a Disney animated movie.
And with only a few hours into the holiday, I am more convinced that I am made for a life of luxury. I am made for sleeping on pristine cotton sheets with the pretence of knowing the right thread count, for easy swimming access to clean lagoons, for having exotic pets in kept a humane way1, how having a house with a theme that is maintained and faces no disruption from Ikea or Amazon purchases.
An open roof in the bathroom? Luxury.
Choosing vintage switches for the cottage? Luxury.
A door lock that nearly predates me? Luxury.
I am unable to enjoy the scenery without a sense of comical foreboding that simply in a different lighting, decor and setting, each of these items is straight out of a horror story.
An open bathroom? (a) Dilapidated house (b) Snakes sneaking in © Neighbourly prying eyes (d) No funds to build a proper bathroom.
Access to a swimming pool? (a) Abandoned water body behind the house 2 (b) Mosquitoes breeding ground © Ghost of a dog that died years ago after drinking the water.
Fancy door lock? (a) Old haveli haunted by its own regional Manjulika (b) Site of a family massacre © Foreclosure by the bank.
On further analysis, all during that shower may I add, I know that it really is the absence of moss on the floor, of cracked walls, of creepers growing into the bricks and a cold spot in the house, that I feel safe and wrapped in the cocoon of luxury. It is a matter of set dressing and decor. And how easily my perception can change with a switch in my environment. I am voluntarily gullible, impressionable, I am a farce of person. I clutch to Ru on a boat towards sunset and feel it in my bones that I have very much earned this, whereas I have earned nothing. I am built with luck. In the bare bones of my state today are good circumstances.
I write this while sipping vodka and soaking my feet in a pool that is lit aesthetically, with a sunset I am ignoring in favour of this reflection. Luxe me up baby.
Meanwhile
- I have now done a third pottery class and can say with absolute certainty I still know nothing about it.
- I am at a hotel where every single staff member has asked me where I am from (clearly an instruction in small talking with your customers). I still do not have a clear cut one line answer.
- I saw two ducks. They looked so pristine and perfect that for half a minute I thought they were garden statues. My soul leapt from my body when I saw them turn.
- The less I drink milk, the less I want milk. Rh's departure from home has started a journey in de-addiction from my daily morning coffee ritual.
- I got diagnosed with thyroid issues and it made me happy, for immediately I used it to soothe myself about why I suck at losing weight. This excuse can last 2 whole months, till the medication starts to take effect. Great times ahead.
- I like pools with green tiling more than blue ones. I am also dreaming of seeing a pink pool in person.
- I played table tennis.
So my attention span is ruined, again
Whenever I avoid my Hobonichi notebooks, I realise I am in trouble, that my attention span is FRIED.
Why is it that no matter how successfully I am able to be off short form content, the minute I give in, I revert to a worse habit? In a few weeks, I have gone from less than total 20 mins of social media usage per day to an hour of Reddit browsing. I even have a dumb-brick phone (Boox) and yet my hands reach for the glossy shape and form of the Instagram thumbnail. Every time I delete it, not only do I find a restaurant page I need to visit, but also a lovely photo I should like to remember in the future (and so it becomes a story). Vices vices vices.
Goddamnit, I feel like we are all sheep. Inevitably, in some form of the other, each of us can find a vice, one they can be in denial of or work half-heartedly to fix. I have had have a friend to whom the first mention of an addiction he was (likely) be harbouring has brought down the house of cards, that is the friendship. The whole interaction is baffling to me, because I cannot half ass a friendship. Closeness comes from care and care can include calling out, which without finger pointing and soft words can be less daunting than it seems. Ru called me out about my addiction to inactivity. And to my own heartbreak, the initial reaction I expressed was shock and horror. Only in minutes to follow did I temper it down to reasoning and logic. I did not like that he told me, but I heard what he told me. And since I have tried to be more cognisant of my inactivity. But quickly, without warning, even after trying consciously hard to stay busy, I slipped into the hammock of browsing my phone while curled up on a soft surface. I scroll the internet between two sheets. It bores me. The internet is not even feeling interesting because of the clutter. Yet it engages my eyeballs enough to keep me there, hostage.
I am nearly worshipping my Hobonichi at this hour. I need you Hobonichi. Please come back.
Culture consumption
I finished the book Lapvona by Ottessa Moshfegh today. And it is too soon for me to finish forming an opinion. But I can say with certainty that the book is rot.
On rewatching the Disney movie Hercules, I was alarmed at how I have the hots for Meg (Megara, Hercules' boo), and how ancient that feeling is in me.
Ru and I watched Homebound in the theatre and felt indefensible to shame. I noted: A gut punching body aching brilliant movie I will never watch again.
I watched this animation called Pussy. Animation continues to be my favourite medium for any and every complex idea. I noted: When pussy and kitty are used interchangeably.
I am heading for dinner soon. See you when I see you.
Do revenge,
Nats