I am shitposting (literal) again.

congratulate me, for I’ve been having some extremely large and alarming shits. about two months ago I decided to re-embark on a colonic journey to make my elimination of solid waste far more regular and less anxiety-inducing. so far things I have tried include: using a standing desk at work (it works in the morning), drinking a tumbler of water (works in the morning), probiotics in pill form (also thought they would help my vagina), sachet kombucha (quite delicious, not sure of any elimination benefits), chia seeds (very annoying to make but NOT as disgusting as I thought they would be), a Lot of coffee (my usual), senna pills (also my usual last resort when things are not intestinally well), and now, unfortunately, the most reliable thing turns out to be eating a shit ton of vegetables, meaning I eat three servings of cai fan vegetables at lunch and nothing else and it kind of works almost instantly, i.e., in an hour, I will be taking a shit. I’ve NEVER had regular shits in my life. when I was domming, subs would regularly ask me to shit on them. I would laugh every single time. a myth and an impossible fantasy.

I also discovered apropos of nothing (while ruminating–agonizing, really) in the bathroom that a lot of my debilitating bathroom anxiety is rooted in a childhood memory of people BANGING ON THE DOOR while I attempted to shit it all out. I just want you to know that when I was a child I was fed pretty much NO VEGETABLES during the weekdays in the care of my grandmother. I would get unseasoned rice porridge (teochew mueh) and One (1) mincemeat patty and sometimes my grandfather would make me a soft boiled egg. and that was it. every day for lunch. after a while we petitioned to get instant noodles on tuesdays and it was successful. still no vegetables. I now have a deep and abiding sodium addiction and parcopresis. with such painful associations with the scatological, I commend myself for ever wanting to try anal. or maybe I thought it would help.

anyway so sorry to say that a balanced diet skewing towards the vegetarian and fibrous really does improve your quality of life. hate it when I make changes to my lifestyle and I have to keep doing them because they Work. not control but surrender. not holding on but letting go. I wrote a creative nonfiction essay for an anthology that my friend Tania was going to be editing and producing but that fell by the wayside in the post-expose kerfuffle that was the singlit scene for a while. but it’s a braided essay (why don’t other essays have that kind of visceral, physical descriptors?) about how I need to unclench, and it’s half about how I loved my emotional support ex (hi ad) and half about how I have once had to dig shit out of my anus with my finger. you’ve got to have the range.

my end-month report for the first completed third of the residency is due and I wish I could say I’ve just been having a beautiful, wondrous, dreamy time reading and being secluded in the magical grove of my imagination, but don’t you know me? one of my favourite things anyone has ever said about me is my friend Kirsten telling me my mental illness is extremely integrated and I am happy to report that with the temporary gift of A Room of One’s Own I have become Even More Integrated with my mental illness. I’m not being facetious. I don’t know how often you get the question ‘what is wrong with you’ but it seems I am quite a frequent recipient of that particular line. (my typical answer is ‘lots and lots & lots and Lots’) I have been by turns depressed, obsessive, moribund, haunted, plagued, demonised, diagnosed by makcik doctor as anxiety-ridden and self-harming with rough sexual overtures—but I accept all of it. my obnoxiousness and my neuroses. the fleeting and flimsy nature of the real and irreal. and as with any deep feeling, once you name it and accept it, it becomes easier to love.

and now I have started a series of love letters to you and am reconnecting with old and new characters because of it (hi qing). I am delving into pdfs and slowly regaining the ability to read academic articles again. I am auditioning for your queer local play. I am absolving myself of the paralysis of excellence. I am very confused as to how many arts house weekend events involve tiny children dressed in victorian era-esque clothing performing at recitals. I am learning what a rare and beautiful thing a dedicated place to go mad in is. not to mention the sensuality of having a wooden desk with actual drawers and a parquet floor (floor time, that is, time spent on the floor, re: the picture above, is essential to most effectively integrating mental illness within my entire being). my goal is to be able to write like I’m running out of time, and to be able to go to the post office and deliver my parcel without anxiety. yes. it will happen.

on saturday you may have seen me being pure and wholesome at the sexual health and wellness human library (missed opportunity to call it human centipede library, thanks Syamil) where I talked to very sexperienced kinksters and also virgins but wasn’t quite sure what my role in the proceedings were. they asked me about pegging, tarot, how to start exploring your sexuality, and why I talk so much about sex. I deeply enjoyed myself, despite previous feelings towards the concept of human libraries, and now I’m trying to find a way to continue those conversations. what would be a cool thing to do semi-regularly? what kind of programming would be exciting? is it more instructional or conversational? does it consist of reviewing sex toys with almost scientific technical detail? I used to read Epiphora quite regularly but I find I have exceedingly particular wants and needs. hyper-specific adult toy posting as a means of reclaiming the body. I kept asking strangers and friends if I should have a labioplasty and no one at the sexual wellness event could give me a straight fucking answer. they asked, is that really a thing. what’s wrong with your ham. a woman told me, ‘I don’t know what labia is.’ part of why I ask these questions (about event programming, but also in general) is because I really want to go to a speed dating event and say out-of-pocket things every day but no one has ever been interested in going with me. on the list of unfulfilled wants and desires it is quite low-grade but still persistent. I don’t necessarily want to make friends or even community per se—think there is a time and place for that—but I do want conversation, always, every day.

there is a quote from the korean drama Mr Queen, where someone says ‘how does she say such nonsense with great sincerity?’ and it resonated with me on a spiritual level. every day is nonsense with great sincerity and I love coming with an open mind (in all the ways).

thanks for being with me today and every day you are with me. the last time I got a beetle message was back in 2017 when I was asking Kali-Ma to speak to me and it rattled in through the window alarmingly (aren’t beetles so alarming when they fly?) at the exact moment I asked (told you I was mentally ill). this time around the beetle is much bigger and less alarming. she’s a female coconut rhinoceros beetle and measures about 4.5cm from tip to tip. she’s very solid and beautiful and strong and can’t right herself once she’s upturned. did you know they take about a year to grow to adults but only live for about a year as adults? not sure if 50-50 childhood/adulthood is a good deal? maybe? 35 is the new 18 so maybe we’re trying to do it to ourselves as well?

someone told me Beetles are Bad Fliers but they will Try to Fly and I related much too hard. I’m also very clumsy. and I accidentally locked the cat outside while being obsessed with the coconut rhinoceros beetle for a good half an hour. sorry Novi. he’s too floaty and ethereal to be much concerned with being locked outside though—he didn’t seem frazzled so much as a bit puzzled as to why there was suddenly a barrier in his way.

also relatable.

see you if I see you, especially at the Haunted Installation Art Poetry Reading on 11 Oct? I’m a little psychic and a lot traumatised but I promise it’s all hilariously integrated.

xoxo
m