Back to California
I'm flying back to California today. This will kind of serve as a travel diary. I'll also be sure to take some pictures on my Polaroid, so look forward to some sweet 480p photography.
a one tone buzz
people filing in
to somewhere, to somewhere
it's comforting, in a way
the roof, as high as it will go
like a church to nothing
and nowhere, in nowhere
Airports are interesting places. It's like a gallery of strangers. Hundreds of people just sitting around, doing their best to kill time. I saw a mom taking a picture of (I assume) her daughters, and bidding them goodbye. It's one of those nice, quiet little moments. I know some folks hate goodbyes, but I think they're beautiful. It's got to happen, so a goodbye can be the best opportunity to tell someone you love them, in whatever way you want. A goodbye can be a work of art.
I'm a sentimental sap, what can I say?
TSA folks were nice today. There was this one guy, bigger dude, beard, that was shepherding the shoes and laptops and PS5s through the machine. He was one of those workers that makes the whole process pleasant to go through, as pleasant as a TSA stop can be. He was high-energy, but in a relaxing way, if that makes sense. Some high-energy folks can feel demanding to interact with, like they're constantly begging you to be happy, but this guy just knew what his job was, asked the questions, kept up the pace of the line, and let you get on your way. You could show up bleary-eyed and pissed at everything, and he'd still get you through that line. The type of energy that's durable, that can handle people in all types of moods. I asked him how long he'd had this job, he said 22 years. Wild. Guess if you got a good job doing something you're good at and don't mind, you can go a long way. The gig economy is such a miserable, mercenary way of employing people.
This is a very different airport. Most of the airports I've been to have this weird, sterile white-and-blue palette, so it's cool to see one go with more browns. My best frame of reference for these ceilings really is a church ceiling.
My niece smiled at me today. She's started smiling recently. She's the sweetest little bundle of joy that you ever did see. I worry a lot almost constantly, but I worried less when I was just looking in her eyes. She's such a curious kid. She'll look at you like you're a space alien, and then start babbling and cracking a smile, turning away.
I'm still thinking a lot about what happened at dinner yesterday. It was a good day, don't get me wrong. It was a lot of fun, even though there was conflict. We just tend to do that, as a family, and I'm not above it. My brother made some joke about anhedonia, and I asked him if that was what he was feeling lately, both because I know he was upset the last time I saw him, and because, if I'm being honest with myself, I wanted to talk about my feelings but I hate feeling like I'm asking for that. I need to stop doing that. I talked a bit about the rough time I've been having lately, and they were supportive, although they usually get frustrated with how I go about doing that. reasonably, of course. Unfortunately, the way I interpret this usually is, "You talking about your feelings is frustrating to other people, and makes them angry. Make sure to keep quiet until it gets unbearable, and then make dinner real uncomfortable." This is not a healthy strategy.
I wondered if I had BPD, and my sister-in-law, a former therapist, said, "Oh, yeah." She says I got it bad. The longer I think about it, the more stuff lines up.
I think I probably do have BPD. I'm pretty damn bummed about it, but it feels more manageable to have a name for the shit going on in my head that makes it feel less existentially harrowing. I'm still nervous about how this is going to affect my relationships in the future. I can know about it, and try to watch myself, but any time I set a rule for myself, I start crafting exceptions for it. "Sure, sure, in general, people should reach out when they're going through tough times, but not ''you'', and not ''now''. Then, it's typical burden rhetoric, and beating myself up for not being happy or satisfied. the thing about people who aren't happy is that beating them up usually doesn't make them happier.
Ah, the second the plane leaves the ground, I need to piss. God damnit.
MMMMMMMMONORAIL TIME BAYBEE
monorail was dope, time for a 3 hour layover. It's 80 degrees in DFW outside today, right at the end of November. The south is cooked. Wonder if they're ever gonna get another fall, or will it just be summer 2 forever?
the mayor apparently felt it necessary to tell me that Dallas has "the friendliest people you'll ever meet" over the DFW bathroom speakers and first off Mr Mayor I'm taking a piss second off everyone I have ever met who drives in Dallas would say otherwise
At least, amidst $10 smoothies and $30 Vietnamese food (to be fair to them it was pretty good), the coffee at the 7-11 is still cheap.
I didn't take as many pictures as I meant to. I feel nervous about accidentally pointing it at a stranger and making them feel weird. Oh, well.
It's getting late. We've almost landed. I've written a new short story comic script, all just in one sitting. Came to me while I was bored on the plane, and I had my keyboard here anyway so I figured it would be a pretty good use of my time. I think it came out... well, it's hard for me to judge my own work, but it definitely came out. And I suppose I won't know how well it works until I can get it illustrated.
Finding artists to illustrate my comics has been tough. The artists I approached in DMs are all either busy or didn't respond. One artist I was going to get to illustrate just couldn't take the extra workload, with their schedule. Fair enough, college and personal projects do eat up a lot of time, and I can't blame them for prioritizing. Hopefully, I'll be able to find an artist who works out, one of these days.