A lingering sense of melancholy has kept me inside my own thoughts. I’ve been feeling hypersensitive & very self-aware more so than ever. I recently read Jonatahn Van Meters Vogue piece “Lady Gaga: Our Lady Of Pop” in which she references Isabella Blow, it brought on notions of accomplished people and suicide. I know I have been self soothing with ganja in hopes of remaining forever indifferent about the matter but the high always fades & I revert to the same patterned thoughts that plague me. I realize McQueen took his life a year ago tomorrow & I can’t help but to remind myself how much everything is really worth/less. How much everything is implied & influenced. How it’s all the same, down to the logic of science that disproves all that faith and hope has sold human kind. ‘Everything’ could never mean more to anyone other than to the person who stresses its importance by influence. It’s nonsensical at least to me to live for the fleeting feelings we distract ourselves with, love & all the roller-coaster of emotions we take ourselves on allowing it all to influence and shape us in every possible way. As if we are separate worlds, classified an objectified by social status according to our worldly possessions & the knowledge we acquire. I am amazed by how insignificant the individual is & how resiliently we crave to be anything but. As if a grain of sand could be conditioned to shine brighter than the rest. The only thing I’ve found worth living for is not my family or the pursuits of love & happiness or a ridiculous faith in a personified God. The only thing worth striving for is equality. Wake up & stop worshipping your feelings.