seventyseven unrest

Yesterday, I woke up early to find that Davin and his date did not need the other round of pizza dough I had prepared and left proofing for nearly two days. So I flattened it and tossed it into the oven. Unseasoned, unflavored, untopped, undressed. Just a sad blank canvas because I couldn't find it within me to do anything else with it.
This feels like a metaphor for current life.

I ate it with carrot top pesto because it was already prepared and waiting for me in the fridge. But otherwise I would've eaten it with nothing at all.
It's almost a shame it didn't meet its full pizza potential because it was quite chewy, lightly tangy, and pleasantly puffy.





carrot top pesto
all the carrot top greens from Dirty Girl
enough roasted walnuts to fill one 10-in cast iron pan in one layer
several cloves of garlic
preserved lemon peels from one lemon
a healthy dollop of dark miso paste
a handful of cilantro, stems included
generous drizzles of olive oil
-I found it easiest and most consistent to pulse the tops and remove//set aside
-then pulse garlic and lemon until paste-y
-add back tops with still hot roasted nuts (I don't know if the residual heat is actually enough to 'cook' the pesto but it makes everything smell extra good) and pulse pulse pulse
-add in cilantro stems and process while drizzling in olive oil to a consistency you like
-I kept mine drier, which ended up being wonderful dip consistency

I did not leave my bed otherwise.
The day before was more of the same idleness, except with a container of leftover rice and chili crisp oil. And pretty much also the two to three days prior to that because I tend to internalize shit.
What a special kind of privilege - to stay hidden in my room while the outside is literally on fire?

Can I ctrl+alt+del this year yet? Cancel my subscription? Turn off and turn back on again?
Is there a way that I can just pause my existence until we are done here?
I've refused to leave the confines of my room for fear of going out, while everyone is calling for me to fight. I'm not so naive to think the world is black and white, but some things I will never understand. I will never understand how this is an issue that is still protested. How someone who was at one point probably otherwise like you and me can slowly and intentionally kill another person while on camera, listening to many pleas to stop. What was not given to or lost by someone like that? Who failed that person? What unfortunate chemical cocktail resulted in that stain on humanity?

In here I had my last rainy-day-reserves croissant with garlicky turnip greens and another sweet baby sausage.


Someone had once told me "I hope one day you'll have the confidence to surround yourself with good people." Or something to that effect. That was the gist of it though. I thought about it a lot, mentally running through each of the people I keep close in my life. What is wrong with them?
Literally nothing. The worst character flaws my friends and I discuss are whether someone was too tipsy to have made good decisions, whether someone tips enough, whether someone was honest.
We maybe disagree on philosophies of families, relationships, employers, friendships, but I get it. No one I surround myself with disagrees that what happened to George Floyd is objectively wrong.
I've been on the other side of a mugging, questionably given consent, and subversive comments about my race, but those things are nothing right now. Because there shouldn't be any division about murder as a result of racism ... Right? I think that's why I can't get out of bed. The spiral of hopelessness that it sends me down is overwhelming. How can I change or improve anything when I literally cannot understand the "opposition"? When I cannot fathom what perspective they are coming from? How do you open a dialogue with people like that? Why does trump exist?!?!

In here I had leftover roasted beet and sweet potato, thickly sliced and fried, with toasted rice n grains and instant chimichuri.

Honestly, I understand the serial killers in my true crime podcasts. I understand villains. I understand Firelord Ozai. I've enshrouded myself in The Last Airbender where good is so obviously good and evil is blatantly evil. Here, I know who wins out.

I don't know who wins out out there.


"Whiteness has already recruited us to become their junior partners in genocidal wars; conscripted us to be antiblack and colorist; to work for, and even head, corporations that scythe off immigrant jobs like heads of wheat. Conscription is every day and unconscious. It is the default way of life among those of us who live in relative comfort, unless we make an effort to choose otherwise." -Cathy Park Hong, Minor Feelings