34. jammed
i jammed my right pinky playing basketball yesterday. me and JY played for 2 hours: shooting drills, 1:1, 2v2, 3v3. I was absolutely gassed. in the last game someone the ball either yammed into my pinky or something because now it's all bruised and swollen. filled with blood. is that a mini inflammation? it feels like it's been wrapped around with gauze and tightened for an hour and now this is the after effect of release. i need to strain to bend it inward to my palm from the first bending point. i don't even know how to describe it, bones.
and i still played the violin. second day playing for patients in lobbies and groups, first day at parnassus and in the bone marrow transplant. it's just another hospital. nothing much to it. i hate how my chinrest keeps collapsing suddenly. i wish i knew better.
and i still jerked off too. the first time in what feels like a week, though i think it was only 4-5 days.
the common theme? i still had my left hand. and it's also just the pinky.
but the funny thing is that's all i'm trying to feel these days. now that there's an injury, that's all i'm paying attention to in my body. my right ankle and my right pinky. i'm beat and battered, just a tad bit.
when i look at my calendar, i'm reluctant to flip the page to june. that's how i feel most months. i wish i could stay in this time period longer. i don't want to move on. i don't want to leave. i feel like i owe may more. or maybe i feel like may owes ME more. someone owes someone something. debt.
ain't that funny? me, in an upper middle class international family, consumed with debt at the end of the month?
i don't really know how i wanted may to be. i just pictured a month full of editing. and it certainly was a month full of editing. editing stories. editing friendships. editing home.
nothing feels finished. nothing ever feels finished. only just enough, in a moment. if i'm lucky, i catch the moment. and the moment is like smoke. a cloud. nothing to grasp.
i don't know if i'm ok. i think of maslow's hierarchy of needs. a lot of my basic needs are covered. i have good long-term friends and also have family alive. i'm alive. though am i alive?
these days, i catch my eyelids fluttering in a three quarters open state. sometimes it's kind of on purpose. like if i want to meditate. focus on noticing something. or if i really want to open my eyes and see fully, clearly.
life happens so fast. i'm glad blogging lets me feel like i'm reflecting on the day.
i want to be putting my art out into the world. expressing and creating and influencing. i feel like my influence has been pretty limited this year, 2025. and that's alright. and hey, if anything, the patients seemed to be influenced, they walked out into the hallways to hear the music. and jeremy said he cried while we jammed on that one riff together in my room. and me and cheryl literally started a movement last night, the first ones to sit on that dirty ass cold floor of cafe du nord. so yeah, it may not feel like the influence i have is the same as how i expect it to be or how i envision it from my previous ways of thinking. but noticing how i've influenced even in just the past three days, it's time for a change in perspective, slowly. it'll come.
but yeah. it is terrifying terrifying terrifying terrifying terrifying darkness void to even think that no one will care about me when i'm gone. the day i die alone in an apartment room no one will be there and no one will know who i am. just one deep dark blue abyss.
wanduffle