I guess this is a blog now.

I’ve been pretty depressed lately. it’s very difficult to stay positive (I’m not an optimist) when you’re perpetually overwhelmed by mysterious, bizarre & painful symptoms. how do you conceive of the future when the present is unbearable without sedation of the senses? I simply don’t. how can there be motivation to change something when that which plagues me is incurable, indefinite until death, and most certainly capable of expanding and dominating my life even further if it felt so inclined. that is what I think about, and that is what hangs over every moment of every day of my life, casting a shadow that is somehow much larger than myself, as it has managed to infringe upon the realities of my closest companions. and yet, I am still here. under the same sky, on the same cliff, next to the very same sea that I used to float and surf in so carelessly, next to the park that I used to run and skate in, up the road from the college I used to attend, before I became too sick. but it’s not the same, and it never will be again. as I approach my 6th year of this altered reality, no longer new to me (it stopped being new after the second year), I can’t help but feel like my life is being wasted. I’m not sure what it’ll take to convince me otherwise, and that’s certainly not an invitation to try. as someone who is often immobilized by pain, I have learned a great deal about the value of observation & awareness, and it is a respite to practice them in a tangible way. photography has somehow held its place in my mind, solidified as part of my identity, an extension of this dysfunctional body. every photo, a portal of relief, momentary freedom. the perfect distraction, encapsulated. and yet now, I can’t afford to buy film anymore. so now what the fuck do I do? really don’t know.