The Roof of the World: The Pamirs, Tajikistan

i spent my first night in tajikistan
in a squat toilet shitting out my insides
bent over in a spiderweb of pain.
i was thankful, at least,
for the darkness a squat toilet provides.
thankful everything disappeared
into a black hole in the earth.

in my private squat toilet hell
i imagined them finding me in the morning.
pants down, lying in a pile of my own shit and blood.
barely conscious, begging for water, chapstick,
and a new pair of jeans, and to line me up
against the crumbling wall,
shoot my decrepit fucking body
my head was unfortunate enough to be attached to.

i came back to vomit,
my face in front of a hole full of shit,
bringing up what i had choked down,
with my cellphone flashlight
waiting for the battery to die or the sun to rise,
whichever one came first.

in the morning we drove through the pamirs;
remote mountains near remote mountain borders.
they call it the pamir highway,
the roof of the world, "the world's greatest road trip",
and i slept through the whole damn thing.


Karakol:

click on the pictures to scroll through.

Murghab: 

Asshole Mountain, near Murghab:

sometimes when i have anxiety

domenica,

sometimes when i have anxiety i check your blog to see if you've written anything new. sometimes i don't even read it, sometimes i just skim, like, it's a comfort to just know that you're out there, thinking of things. i think of this now, at 1 in the morning, skimming.

i'm worried that i'm doing it all wrong. 'it' being life.

i know there's no wrong way, but i'm scared anyway. like what if it's just like before. 'it' being this year. there are histories about me that you don't know, intricacies, and stories so delicate i become angry at them. i can't stop thinking about her. from before i met you. all the things i did so wrong i'm scared i'll do again. it has nothing to do with you at all, but it just seems like you're here right now, so i'm mentioning it. briefly, this feeling.

it seems like you're here right now, close, where i can trace your own delicately outlined histories when i get scared, slide inside your skin,

so i let you slide into mine:

it's just that fear doesn't only come at night anymore. it's there in the morning, too. domenica, my eyes are burning from the screen. i'm scared to go to sleep. i'm scared of the light i'll see when i wake up.

10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness revisted

10,000 tonnes happiness and sadness

you're not quite sure what it is that makes you so sad, only vaguely aware that it is here, visiting you in the shower. just some under the surface stuff that you reveal scrubbing yourself absentmindedly. you're not even sure if it's sadness, maybe apathy or lethargy instead. but then a heavier sigh - yes, there it is. sadness, which is so close to happiness that you can mistake one for the other. happiness, contentedness, a sort of apathy or lethargy in its own way. a settlement of sorts? happiness, sadness, what's the difference? you hate euphoria - it scares you, makes you upset. never one feeling without the other. happiness and sadness inside your coffee mug; filtered coffee which tastes good because you can't afford better, made in your kitchen, sipped without thought on the cool tiled floor while your hair dries. something is missing; it's milk and sugar, but you can live without those now.

look at what i did now

in an airport hotel
so i touch your bones for the last time

the sun rises through the window

planes lift their heavy wings
fly over our heads

this balcony gives an excellent view of sky

so at four in the morning i pack my bags
and dive right in

sweet blue tastes like sugar sticks and nescafe

asphalt tastes like clean sheets soft mattress all alone

so i guess what i'm trying to say
is that i'm home

This Blog Is Moving For 2 Months

Hello! As I'm sure you may have heard from all the various news reports and covers on magazine stands, I am going to China TOMORROW Monday, May 7!

Holy shit! You're probably thinking to yourself. How can I keep in touch with Emily when everyone knows that China is slightly neurotic and blocks access to facebook, twitter, blogger, and wordpress thereby rendering all current social media irrelevant? Well, the hidden gem that China has not yet discovered, at least not last year, is tumblr! So I will direct your attention to THE ONLY WAY I WILL HAVE NOT-PRIVATE CONTACT WITH THE WORLD AT LARGE:

thisisntpaper.tumblr.com

this
isnt
paper
dot
tumblr
dot
com

essentially I will be moving my blog to tumblr for 2 months.

also my email is in my blogger profile if you want to contact me directly regarding future photoshoots or interviews.

This year I'm actually going to try and document the majority of my trip which will be easier, I think, because I won't be in a classroom and because I'm bringing a digital camera. Also I'll have my cell phone which will really just be my ipod that takes pictures please don't call me.

Now that that nonsense out of the way, I just want to sort of comment on something. People keep asking me "what are you going to do in China?" and I never know what to say because I find this question very confusing. It's like when someone tells you they're going on vacation to NYC and you ask them what they're going to do there. Well, they're going to eat and drink and see all the touristy shit and be in New York. Unfortunately we're only going to be in NYC for one night; in China Rachel and I are going to sit in our tiny un-air conditioned hostel rooms and not talk to each other for two months.

The Year in Review: Sometimes I Disappeared, But I Want To Come Back

It's that made up time of year when I decide to look back at everything that has made me who I am up until this very point of writing. These times come for me usually in that gray area when one thing ends and another begins; right now it's school ending and summer beginning. In a week I'll be on a plane to China. I think that maybe this is important because it's the exact same thing I did last year.

I'm sitting in my parents' kitchen right now, drinking tea and eating stale raisins. The weather is cloudy and I think it rained this morning. I just got back from A-Camp on Sunday night and I don't really know what to do with myself. It's a lot quieter here.

The thing is, this year, I don't need to ask myself "how did you get here?" because I already know that inertia got me here. Does that make sense? What I mean is that I didn't do anything at all to get me anywhere. In September I thought to myself that I was a whole new person with realness, tangibility, and form and I stepped outside of my brain and decided I was going to crash into life.

But it turned out that life was just work. And I threw myself into that with all the force I could muster because it made me feel like a real person. It made me feel needed and important and like I was really doing something, even if it wasn't actually important at all. I could say to people "I'm working" and it could be a thing that people understood. You know? It felt normal. Like, God, I'm just so normal, going to normal work all the normal time. And I felt all the normal feelings, which is to say, I really didn't feel anything at all.

What really happened is that everything else in my life fell away. I wanted time to "focus on myself" but it turns out that that meant ensuring that I got the proper amount of sleep every night. Everything was just fine in that fine way, where I didn't cry I just sort of despaired when things were sad and then did whatever it was that I had to do. I believe they call this "going through the motions" and Buffy Summers sang about it on her hit TV show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer".

I feel proud of myself because I made + saved enough money to pay for my entire trip to China all by myself. All the money that I'm using is entirely mine that I worked for, and financial independence is something that I've always wanted so this feels like a big step for me. It's okay to feel good about that, right? Money makes me so uncomfortable and I wish that everybody had a lot of it or that nobody had any at all. But I guess this isn't really about money.

It's about how I closed up and disappeared and became a non-entity. I worked a lot but it was only about money in the sense that I needed just enough to pay rent and keep some in my bank account. I worked a lot so I could hold on to something that seemed to make sense to everyone else ("work") and I didn't let myself think about the other things that I wanted. It felt good to have a team at work, to be known and to feel solid. That was sufficient.

But before this year, my life wasn't about sufficiency. It was an overflow of feelings all the time and I cried a lot and that was a good thing. I wrote words and people read them and the words came from a real place in my heart. I stopped writing this year. My blog is almost empty and so is my journal because I just didn't have anything to say. There were no feelings that were pounding on my heart's door, demanding to be let out.

It's kind of the worst thing, to stop wanting. I don't believe for a second that I've ever stopped wanting, but I took desire and covered it up. Every time it knocked it was a faraway sound that I could shut out so easily, pretend it belonged somewhere else. I muted my desire to be anything, to be even a person. Was I a person who wrote? I had no beliefs, no identity, no passion. I didn't want to participate in anything, go anywhere, meet anyone. There was nothing for me to write.

I don't know if it was fear. I don't know what it was. I think it was just a mistake I made about myself, which I am okay with admitting. I think if I could go back I would love everyone a little harder, because I wasn't a very good friend, and I'm sorry about that.

Going to A-Camp reminded me of the person that I was when I first started working for Autostraddle. And everyone remembered me as that person, which made me want to be that person again. I miss her, that girl who was scared but brave, in love with everything and everyone. It reminded me of a time when I really lived, or something, whatever living is. I mean, it was living with other people, being comfortable in my own skin, and letting things hurt. Life doesn't have to hurt if you don't let it, but then I don't think you'll feel any feelings at all. I mean, you have to let them all in.

by Robin Roemer
this is a weird picture of me and I don't even mind

This is what A-Camp did, what Autostraddle does: it gives you confidence to be who you are. If there's anything I learned from Autostraddle for the past 3 years it's that you have to let yourself feel. Your feelings are beautiful and you're beautiful and god it sounds so corny, but that's what it is, you are beautiful and you need to let yourself feel things because I'm going to start feeling things again and it's all going to be okay if we have feelings together.

I think maybe the whole point of this blog was my weird way of trying to tell you who I am, even though I don't know who that is. I'm figuring it out piece by piece, and the Autostraddle team has been a big part of that. Sometimes I disappeared, but I want to come back. I don't really know what that means, sorry.

I don't know. I guess this is just my life and these are the things that have happened to me and the things that I have done. I'm not going to say that I'm not going to hide anymore because I will probably still hide sometimes. But I know a little better now what I want and who I want to be and I think I can be that person.

by Robin Roemer

I know you can't see these people's faces, but I want you to know they are among the most beautiful faces you will ever see.

I am humbled, once again, by the magic of Autostraddle. I want you to know that I knew these things about myself before, I knew that I had disappeared this year and become a blank slate of nothingness. But I guess A-Camp filled me up again, reminded me of there's a rosy complexion to my cheeks.

M. Ward - A Wasteland Companion

M. Ward has been one of my favourite artists ever since I heard two of his albums ("Hold Time" and "Post-War") in the Winter of 2010. Those albums remind me of sitting in the library for days writing an essay about China and studying for exams -- but for some reason it's not a stressful memory. I think I was happy then. Or at least understanding something for a moment, whatever that something was. Maybe the past always seems happier than the present. No? I don't know.

Anyways, M. Ward has got a new album out called "A Wasteland Companion" and I like it more and more every time I hear it. It's full of everything I love about him: folk/country/soft-pop/alt-rock/interesting lyrics/keyboard/harmonies, etc.

He's already got a video out for "The First Time I Ran Away":

The second time I ran away I saw warriors on the train catching tigers by the tail.

You can stream the full album on his website and I really think you should do that. Suffice to say I am not disappointed.

There are a couple of songs that I really like; "Clean Slate" is a beautiful little opening track, "Primitive Girl" is upbeat and fun, "Pure Joy" is dreamy and hopeful and redemptive. But I think my favourite song so far is "Crawl After You", a piano ballad that almost made me cry.

So I gotta crawl after you, tell you who I am...

My favourite M. Ward song of all time will always be Post-War.

in the meantime

I have to write a megapost about Feist because that's what my heart is telling me to do, but in the meantime have a listen to Sensual Harassment's remix of UK band Stranger's song "Shine On You". You can also download Sensual Harassment's 2010 album "Alpha Draconis" for free on their website which you should do because it's free and because IT'S FUN. "It's" referring to free things and also the music.

You know, sometimes I consider just turning this into a music blog.

(via)

i'll be the one who'll break my heart

[feist - i feel it all]

oh feist. if i had time to write you a love letter a day for the rest of my life, i would.

only slightly alternate

nowadays i only ever get drunk on weekdays

and only ever on white wine

i bought at the supermarket for $6.99

i only ever think of a million different people

i've seen that week, some faces more than others

some faces i couldn't get enough of

i only ever think of an only slightly alternate

reality

no one ever shits or blows their nose

it's an open concept loft apartment with a double bed

nowadays i only ever get drunk

i only ever think of all the books i'm going to read

in your open concept loft apartment with a double bed