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For approximately 2/3rds of my life, I have had the privilege of living in a small thorn forest that skirted city limits. When I felt ousted from the world of people, I could go to the back of land and be surrounded by nopales and mesquite, and if turned my head a certain way, I wouldn’t have to see cars or buildings or anything like that. It was a strange, isolated place, but also a kind of paradise. While I would say that averages out to normal, it’s a context most people don’t have, understandably.

There is currently a Southwestern themed exhibit at the museum that has landscapes and imagery that look similar to the Valley’s natural features. I’m glad I saw it.

For about a week, it has now officially been summer. In reality, it’s felt like summer for quite some time.

I had the idea that once it started feeling like summer, I would start hunkering down at home and start fleshing out one of the many of story outlines I’ve written. However, the moment it got hotter, all I’ve really wanted to do is go out. How grateful I am for cafés with outdoor seating!

When it’s like this, it’s crucial to know what materials you’re wearing, so you can feel cool despite it all. As I write this, I am enjoying the silken feel of satin pajamas. It’s enjoyable at home, indoors, but this would sort of thing would create a damp nightmare the moment I stepped inside my AC-less car. Conversely, while I love pearls, to expose them to the unceasing glare of the sun and torrents of sweat would make them lose their luster…and that would be missing the point.

So, when I feel a certain way at a certain time, I call upon the power of my fake pearls. They have a good heft to them, can take wear and tear, and even feel cooling when I put them on. And they’re cute! This was the sort of thing esoteric scholars dreamed of so long ago, and now it’s just part of my ordinary everyday.

Everyday life is made up of such miracles.

While obviously I don’t think the exploitation of the Earth is good, the fact is, even if it were all shut down tomorrow, all of these plastic goods and trinkets would already exist. Since it’s difficult to exist, we should appreciate what we have for what it is.

When I engage with older work, I feel a strong pull towards the imagery of cigarettes. There wasn’t much to do those days, you know– when one was bored, one had no choice but to hit the street, smoke some cigarettes, and find trouble. The protagonist of the story I just uploaded smokes cigarettes. This Palestinian man with a gun pointed at him looks impossibly cool and nonchalant while smoking a cigarette. And naturally, the protagonist of No Longer Human smokes cigarettes.

Ever since I first read no Longer Human as a teen, it has been a work close to my heart. I hold it in high esteem, but I don’t think I was able to say “This is one of my favorite books,” out loud, to another human being, with my lips and teeth, until my early twenties, once my partner had been living with me and my parents for quite some time. It is a harrowing work, dark and relentless, about how difficult it is to live when your spirit is locked so deeply inside yourself not even you have a chance of taking it out.

Naturally, that type of depression begets an intense type of self-obsession, so I wouldn’t recommend it if that type of thing irritates you. But upon my most recent reread, I found it quite funny in some parts, and a good look at Japanese society right before World War II.

It doesn’t feel like there’s a meaningful difference between then and now.

Indeed, on this reread I was struck by how powerless the people around the protagonist are in curtailing his increasingly erratic behavior. Even his family, who have money and status, can’t do anything to meaningfully help him. They can’t understand anything outside of standardized prescribed behavior, and even if they could, they’re too enveloped in their own everyday misery and difficulties to see what’s going on. When tragedy strikes, it’s everybody’s fault, but it’s also nobody’s, because if anyone could do anything to begin with, things would have never gotten that bad.

But yes, No Longer Human is a lurid, breezy, feel-bad story, with lots of cringe and depravity. I love it! Dazai really lived that way, and I hope he has found peace in the afterlife. I would also like to think he would appreciate this pic.

That day, I left behind a barely smoked black cigarette strained with lipstick, with all the other used up butts. It felt slightly scandalous.

It feels like May is the last month the heat is reasonably tolerable until we hit September. But right before June flares up, masses of itchy little black bugs come out in full force. I’m not looking forward to that! The smell of citronella is preferable to being bit all over, but ideally, I wouldn’t have to deal with either.

While I haven’t been able to show up in public the way I’d like lately, I’m grateful I have a private life that supports and looks out for me.

One of my favorite things I’ve experienced lately is a talk about trees at the McAllen Public Library. It really shifted my perception in how I view them, and deepened my love. The circumstances in the Valley are not perfect, but they cling to life with everything they’ve got. In this way, we are like trees.

How was your winter? Privately and publicly, I feel like mine was productive. I tried a lot of new things, and had the space to remember old ones. Now, the goal is to solidify and refine exactly what I’m aiming for, so I can do some cool things before it’s too hot to walk around. This pocket of time of precious, so I will do my best to enjoy it fully.

On this Thursday, I decided to start working on my website. I’m excited to see what it will bring!

That said, it’s a little chilly out, isn’t it? While the cold brings its own problems, the change is welcome. I’m looking forward to outdoor events in the coming season.