debauchery szn

I’m moving to New York soon, have been re-reading Meetka’s nym96 blog (probably why I’m here right now), working at a restaurant, absorbing various types of laissez faire lifestyles via my porous scrolling habits, and generally growing disillusioned with moral high groundism, self-righteousness, Honor, and “wellness,” because all those things are dreadfully boring and simply meant to satisfy the needs of the user. I’m also watching Sex and the City and films from the 90s, reading Anna Karenina, and consuming more red meat and gin than I usually do because both are just so tasty. I guess I’m practicing indulgence after studying for three years and earning a degree that I think looks ugly on my wall. Perhaps it’s the indie sleezification of pinterest boards or the fact I recently started dating someone I’m crazy about and invariably committed to, and thus acting out only within the confines of my mind, writing, and consumption habits. This new relationship, too, because I’m in (redacted), makes me feel perpetually drunk on a cocktail of emotions, which makes my stomach feel more Full and Earthly matters much less compelling. I told him that my heart is fat and juicy and that I wish we could eat it for dinner with the sharpest knives, and now that I’m thinking about it surely a whole head of garlic, bottle of wine, and stick of butter. He hasn't responded yet.

Within Tolstoy’s enormous volume, which I am about 200 pages deep in, I am (unsurprisingly) interested in Vronsky and the revelrous, morally depraved, seductive circles in which he dallies, plays, and stalks Anna: There was another sort of people, the real ones, to which they all belonged, and for whom one had, above all, to be elegant, handsome, magnanimous, old, gay, to give oneself to every passion without blushing and laugh at everything else. Of course this is a bit silly. The people in this group are very hunger games district One. They are wealthy so they have reckless fun. They are the elite so they don't worry about it. They take nothing seriously, because nothing, to them, is that serious. And of course their uber wealth is unseemly and ridiculous, but my delusions are making me empathize with this ruthless group. They are free to feel whatever they want, indulge in any emotion that is available to us as a species. Because what, if anything, is serious enough to rob someone of their full spectrum of emotion. If you’ve been around me for only a moment, I’ve probably espoused my one true philosophy: We as humans exist only to feel. And no one feels more than a nihilistic son of a bitch. Oh the irony.