Happy One Year Of Unintentional Contentment
A year ago exactly, I was having sex for the last time for the unforseeable future. It was sufficient and my partner looked like the most divine formation of chisled black marble. I did not intend for that to be the case or for them to be the sexual book-end of my old life, but here we are…
We’ve also been forced to navigate a global pandemic of every human rights issue known to (hu)man this year, so one can sympothize how sex never really made the overall priority list. But, the distant memory crossed my mind today…
The thought could be a possible byproduct of Joe Biden’s election announcement and the weight of an anticipated choatic regime under Trumpster and Co. 2020 dissipating. Now that I don’t have to spend time re-watching Hand Maids Tale and The Walking Dead for survival tips, my tinkering brain has been free to return to the thoughts that used to haunt me B.C. (Before COVID), like a healthy sex life and how to better my materialistic future.
The closest I can comprehend what the hell has happened this 365-day period can be illustrated by the aesthetic shifts of Brad Pitt in the 90’s. B.C. is represented by Western interpretation of Jesus Christ Brad Pitt — an enigma if you will — with all the obvious desirable traits one can uniformly comprehend. The future is represented by Gwenyth Paltrow dating, side-bang Brad Pitt. Do we really understand what he’s going for? Are we completely turned off by the lack of awareness in his obvious explorative and gender nerutral space? To that, I’d argue a more raw attractiveness in the unknown of Side Swoop Pitt vs. Rock Me Sexy Jesus. There’s a certain comfort that appears when an unpredictable rock bottom is uncovered, never to be returned to again once illuminated. And much like Brad Pitt, as we know today, there’s still a lifetime of unpredictable events to still navigate. (Don’t even get me started on Panic Room Premiere Brad Pitt aesthetic representation).
A year ago, I also decided to actively try and leave Los Angeles — FOR GOOD. Cliché, I’m sure, but it just wasn’t for me. I have no desire for obvious fame, the culture seemed monotonous, and it not hard to preview everything LA had to offer from “glamorous film wrap parties” to random underground BDSM clubs with your favorite Prince’s of Bel Air. It’s a life glamorized by Entourage, but in 2020, feels played out . I was hell bent on this job opportunity in Montréal being the gateway to my hopeful future, but the universe shut down those avenues and forced me to stay in LA. And to that, I would like to give a huge shoutout to the non-denominational, All-Mighty, real Sims controller deciding my matrix for that.
Thankfully, I didn’t move to Canada (and I say that lightly). Since shutdown, I’ve been fortunate to maintain a full career in digital media production, reconnect to my loved ones, strengthen new fulfilling dynamics and learn all the healthy ways to navigate life, while shedding all the coping skills that no longer serve me sustainably. Could I have done without COVID-19 directly impacting loved ones, my grandmother’s death, learning the true nature of being the only black family member in the midst of a race war, all while navigating the other stresses of hoping for a future in this political climate as a 25-year-old? I don’t think one can come without the other while honoring the true nature of balance, which is all we can rely on these days.
Last year, I was unsettled with everything I observed in my own conditioned physical and metaphysical patterns. The pandemic has demolished every foundation I build my hopes, expectations and habits on. That foundation also held my fears, and those are gone too. I really don’t want to go back and expect the same moving forward. I can only anticipate feeling really underwhelmed with that chosen reality playing out. I’m not betting on much these days, besides myself and the fact that there must be a point.
I don’t believe there’s a macro, all-encompassing point with a positive or negative charge. Now THAT would be boring. But if there is a point, it’s more so a point made up of a kajillion-and-four baby points that are made of an unimaginable amount of further complex points. It is my subconscious duty to maintain my end of “the (collective energetic) bargain” and observe the integrity of my point. What that is, is tbd…
