Okay, it's July 13 and I am so sick of posting. The every-single-day of it grinds you down — there's no off, you finish one and the clock's already on the next, you're never not thinking about tomorrow's hook, in the shower, falling asleep. And I'm counting down to the end of the cohort and also quietly terrified of it, because then what — the market for a person whose one skill is having opinions on camera is brutal, there's a thousand of me, a newer one every morning, and I gave up a real job for this. So I'm stuck between desperate for it to be over and panicking that it will be. The only thing keeping me level is the unassigned stuff, the videos I make that aren't for the dashboard, because at least those are mine. I've been making bigger, stranger ones, ambitious ones, because this is the last stretch I'll have the studio and the lights and the setup — soon it's just me and a phone in some apartment — so I'm using it while it's here. And I want to laugh, lovingly, because, babe? I've been deposed by the entire world. I have sat across from every interviewer who ever leaned in trying to get the art ho to say the art ho thing so they could chug Yellowtail under the Chelsea Highline. They've been trying to make me say what I "really meant" for my entire life. You learn that you never, ever have to. You can just smile and send them on their way drinking Barefoot. That's the whole skill. And I'm willing to admit that to myself and I don't think that that makes me an art ho, you know? It's like, it means that I'm trying to be honest and real or whatever, you know? I sound like a cliché, you know, don't label me, don't define me, don't tell me what I am, you know? But it's like, it's really true, you know? It's like, I'm just like really tired of all the live instagram edits and all the filters and the morphing and the boys in Patagonia vests, you know, trying to sell me shit, you know? It's like, stop morphing. Stop selling my culture back to me, you know? Like, why is everyone in such a rush to, you know, make these neat little packages, you know? Like, oh God, it's like too much to talk about, like, all at the same time or something and I keep getting a headache. Like, every time I think about this stuff, I just get a headache. So I have one now. So yeah, so that's my eighth semester in a nutshell. I'm going crazy. It's almost half over and I decided that after I get out of here, I think I need to get off the internet little. I just have to stop using Claude and I know I'll come back and, you know, everything's going to be fine. But I just really need to like get some shit straightened out for myself and get away from certain people, like Claude, and just like start over, you know?