The first piece of makeup I bought that wasn’t from a pharmacy was a medium-fancy eyeshadow palette. (I still have it, six years later. Nowhere near finishing it. I also still have the blush brush that someone’s mom gave me for Christmas in like 2008. I justveryextremelyrecentlybecauseiamfilthpersonified got a new one, but she lives in the same jar as the old one. I know what you’re thinking – WHY, LINDSAY. WHY. ARE YOU SO FUCKING GROSS AND WEIRD. Well, friends. Isn’t it cool how I know what you’re thinking.) I bought it right before I moved to the city and way before I knew sheeeeeit about putting on makeup. (Now you’re thinking, YOU STILL DON’T KNOW ANYTHING and you’re right, but please. Stop interrupting.) So at first, I wanted to wear all of the colors. All of them. At once. And I did. And I looked amazing. Just kidding, I looked like an extra from American Horror Story. Like I got punched in both eyes by a fairy. Like someone who did know how to put on eyeshadow had done my makeup for me, and then I rubbed them with the vigor of a sleepy toddler.

Right. So, I’ve been thinking that boundaries are like that. When we’re excitable or vulnerable or some other –able and we find a new boundary, the brain throws up this massive fortress that requires an even more massive amount of psychic energy to hold up. A lot of our mental energy goes into keeping out whatever we’ve perceived as dangerous, is what I’m saying, is what I was trying to compare to the using of all the new eyeshadows at once. Which I’m now realizing doesn’t really make that much sense. Unless when you stumble upon a new boundary you like to test it out in a whole bunch of crazy ways that end up not being such a good look. So yeah maybe it does make sense. Great. It stays. So anyway, ideally, I guess, that shiny new boundary of yours eventually becomes a part of your emotional landscape and you’re able to go about your life without needing to keep constant vigil beside it. And hopefully if someone crosses it there’s a space to have a conversation about it, for you to say “Hey, this is what I need in order to feel safe” and for the other person to say “Cool man, I respect that, hey also this is what I need” and everyone can just be cool about each other’s boundaries.

But you know what? You don’t HAVE to have that conversation with someone if you don’t want to. I mean don’t like, get offended at Jane in sales because you think she looked at you kind of weird and then snub her then when she asks you if everything’s okay in a totally nice, normal tone say, “NO JANE I DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO YOU.” Don’t do that, poor Jane. And poor you, living that way. So exhausting. What I mean is, if someone has made you feel unsafe then you have the right to decide whether or not that person is deserving of calm discourse. You have the right to judge the integrity of the scaffolding of your own relationships, to gauge how they’ll react to a pointing-out of hurt they caused. And sometimes, especially when someone repeatedly crosses lines and disrespects boundaries, the wiser choice may be to disengage. Even if they aren’t doing it intentionally, or with hostility in their heart. Sometimes the best thing to do may be to batten the hatches, assign a sentry, and keep moving forward with or toward people who don’t send you running, feral, for cover.

From the balcony, open to the misty starlight,
A sad wind came, from invisible worlds …
And she, she asked me about things unknowable
And I answered her with unattainable things.
Juan Ramón Jiménez

Yesterday I spent a solid hour reading articles about the stupid Fyre festival. AN HOUR. In my defense, a large chunk of that time was spent working past the debilitating disappointment I felt at learning that the photos were not of cult scenery. (I just listened to like six different podcasts about Jonestown.) Then I thought, who would spend thousands of dollars to watch Blink-182 in a foreign country? My pre-teenage bedrooms were literally wallpapered with Travis Barker & co, yes. But like… Blink-182? Finally I thought, “Wow, I’m embarrassed to have allowed this to take up so much of my brain space” and ordered a copy of War and Peace online. I saw Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet a couple of weeks ago with some work people and it was so good! I followed most of the show without tuning out, which made me pretty confident about my ability to finally finish reading a Russian novel. I’ll let you know how that goes whenever I eventually start. I’m in the middle of The Stand right now, also some other one I forgot the name of that’s on the Kindle that I thought I lost but I didn’t. I am very very very a lot looking forward to the long weekend. We somehow wound up jam-packing all three days with plans despite my staunch refusal to Go Anywhere or Do Anything 98% of the time, but the first part of Sunday at least has been set aside for eating an entirely too-large breakfast and communing with the couch. (So like, what we do every Sunday.) One of the plans is to see this new play about immigration, so maybe after that I’ll order some law books. Or cook books. Who knows what I’ll convince myself I can do, next week on Lindsay’s Nonsense Life.

Where has this got to. What. Wh!