It is the first time I’m alone with nothing in particular to do in a long time, or at least that is what it feels like. Fuck man I am utterly depleted. It feels like tiredness seeped into the marrow of my bones, my mental resilience is worn down by the past two weeks, and I am spiraling a little now. I should be grateful and proud instead of this pityful. But yeah you can’t deny what is huh. Yesterday L, M and me opened ‘principles’, the exhibition we worked on for the past time. We slept on air matresses in one of the spaces for about ten days. These days were completely occupied by working on the exhibition, doing strange side missions for money and dragging heavy material around and stressing about necessary materials. Tiring stuff. At night we slept in a moldy room on air matresses. There was also no shower for the first half of our stay. I never slept well except for 1 night 4 days ago. We chose this, because we wanted the full intensity and because we wanted to make a good fucking exhibition. It was very necessary to spend the time we did. Even tough people identify me as ‘an artist’ I really don’t care for what it usually entails to the people asking. From where I stand now, it is barely worth the immense effort that went in. I do it (showing these paintings in this way in this context) to in a sense ‘flex my muscles’, to show that I can do this too, not only make blog posts and youtube videos and write emails and radio programs and fashion collections. But fuck do I hate this opening moment. Most of the time I dont identify as an artist at all, and when I do in weeks like these -building up an exhibition- I am measuring ceilings and taping cables. And all the time I am just thinking about how bad I want to spend time with C in my arms. Something that would have felt much closer to ‘life’ at this time. I had 0 balance in the way I spent my time (working 90percent of the time) and that was reflected in having a hard time finding a balance in my thoughts. When I finally arrived to the moment of the opening I can not really say I had fun. I was tired and worrying about how people would perceive everything. I think the exhibition really is quite good. And yet that feels so worthless at the same time. How to square with this. That people just care less than you. I think the expo can be a powerful artistic, spiritual, political and poetic experience. But i guess nobody cares as much as you do yourself, and that is dissapointing. I was also dissapointed to find it impossible to be present with people at the opening. I just felt kind of like a phantom floating around. That hurt me when C came around. Felt like a shadow of who i actually am. Today I went to ghent for a mystery visit that I will reveal later, then went to the expo in the afternoon and hung around until my parents came and received them there we had a long tea session with Jehanne, really exciing for my parents it was beautiful to see. In the meantime C texted me and something is wrong and i don’t really know what and why and if i have anything to do with it (sounds like i do) and am kind of spiralling in this for no reason other than that i care and that i am very vulnerable right now, falling asleep as i write this. I want to know whats up, but i wont today so i will just have to make my peace for now (hard rn).I want to be with her. I am falling asleep so hard so i will go. More later