Hi there. If you’re alone in a crowded room somewhere, parting the seas of sweaty, swaying bodies I want you to read this. I want you to inhale the putrid scent of booze and pheromones and ask yourself, “Do I really want to be here?”. Here goes.
- Stop drinking. Just….stop it. I know its elixir in a bottle, ambrosia, youth juice, and whatever the fuck it is you call alcohol to coax others into drinking but it isn’t worth it. The objective of life is not to numb the pain but to feel every single thing that comes your way. Stop stopping yourself from feeling things. God knows nobody believes your Ray Of Sunshine act.
- I want you to be alive: I want you to laugh in your best friend’s arms. I want you to dye your hair all colours of the rainbow. I want you to stand chest to chest with your lover. I want you to get a degree. I want you to take enough pictures to fill every gallery in this world. What’s day without a little bit of night? Don’t fight it. I want you to live through the pain.
- Who are you?I want you to stop lying yo yourself. You know you’re an artist, the family knows you’re an artist, the neighbour’s cat knows you’re an artist. Why do you keep running from it? It makes someone else happy but how long do you think they’ll be around for? They’ll be gone in a flash- like the rest of your life. The ink will have bled through your words, rust will bloom on your favourite camera. Very little of your soul will be left, so stop ripping it out now. I want you to look in the mirror and recognise who you see, for the first time in many years.
- Eat. It isn’t that difficult. You know you want to.
- Free the nipple: How much longer will you be afraid of what’s underneath? The same hands the held your dad’s when he lay in bed, unable to move. The same hair your mother stroked as you sobbed into your pillow. The same body that has been loved yet pillaged. The same body, with the same heart, with the same mind with memories worth nineteen long years. You aren’t stardust or a deity or on the cover of Vogue. You’re you and for whatever it’s worth, you’re beautiful. Get naked. Free your body, free the soul. You may be hiding but the world still sees.
- Seek, don’t settle: You come to seek a Great Perhaps. So do not settle for Maybes and I Don’t Knows. Bukowski said “find what you love and let it kill you.” You are dying either ways, might as well be at the hands of someone you love. So don’t settle. Seek.
- Pick your fucking camera up. Pretty self explanatory. You may not be the best. Yet. Art doesn’t compete with art. Art chats with art over a cup of coffee. Art makes love to art, bare naked in the moonlight. Art screams at art in the middle of the street. Art cheers art on from the crowd, teary eyes. So don’t let Instagram steer the course of creativity. You know you love what you’re doing. So, go ahead. Take that shot.
-Adrija Dutta, 30.03.2019, in the midst of exam panic.