Hi Anita,

Your enthusiasm is so beautiful, thank you!

Sending so much love to both of you and the entire community. Today I’m so exhausted, uncomfortable, cynical, heartbroken, and still I’ve been able to smile.

Life is revealing itself to me every day and it’s confusing, tiring, weird and amazing. I wish it was easier. I wish I could hold onto things forever in my arms and never have to let go. Life is so painful and tragic and crazy. I’m so tired of being tired and sick of being sick. I’m proud of myself and of everyone who keeps going. I’m proud of people who did their best and weren’t able to keep going. Despite it all, I’m proud of humanity.

Sometimes it all feels like a cruel joke or game, and I lose sight of any sense of meaning. There are two sides of me, one seeped in nihilism and the other an ever-hopeful optimist. I don’t know who’s right but I really hope there is some meaning to it all.

I keep returning to my childhood. Standing around in shops looking with wonderment at mundane products, waiting for my family to buy things. The music in videogames. The smell of rain. Feeling safe around my dad, laughing at his jokes. Seeing rainbows and wondering how they worked. Feeling like an outcast in school.

I can’t believe how human i am. I cant believe how imperfect i am. I can’t believe life is so long and so short, and that everything i do or say will likely someday be no more than a flash in the pan.

I took magic mushrooms a few months back and had this insane experience ive never talked about because i dont know how to talk about it, i cant put it into words. it was like i was in a play or a novel. I felt what it means when we say “all the world’s a stage”. I saw, felt and experienced countless rooms and tunnels embodying my psyche, as labyrinthian as any other person’s. the room i was most frightened of but also incredibly drawn to was a room in a hospital with a bed in it. this room had so much gravity. it pulled everything slowly towards it and was so heavy and made myself and everything around it heavy along with it. I felt the presence of the grim reaper and I sensed that this is all for nothing. And i felt agony at the thought. I try so hard, we all try so hard to make something of our damn lives. And i just hope so desperately that it’s all for something. I hope there’s a reason for me to get out of bed in the morning and push through my pain and exasperation at the state of my body and the world in order to do something like write this out, or listen to my mum, relate to others, connect with people.

Thinking about existence and meaning has become an incredibly psychedelic and haunting experience. Why am I here? The question is so basic and so cliche but I cannot escape it.

Depression is a joke. Nothing feels real anymore. But writing this felt pretty close to real. Writing this is in a way the most real I’ve felt in a long time. It  feels good to get it out and feel seen by beings so compassionate as people like you both. I’m so incredibly grateful for and in awe of people like you. Thank you <3