If January Was a Test, I Failed.

I Crashed, Burned, and Scrolled.

I’m comatose in bed. I can’t function properly.

My house didn’t burn down. My boyfriend’s almost did—but didn’t (yes, that guy is now my boyfriend, and I’ll get into that soon). Nothing extraordinary has happened directly to me—at least nothing I can point to. So why can’t I think?

I have a self-imposed writing deadline eating away at me. I have goals eating away at me. I am eating clean. My nervous system is fairly regulated. No major fuck-ups. And yet, I’m paralyzed. January has been one endless slog.

My friend texts me to say she feels the same way: shut down, lights off, can’t even try.

Wait. What am I talking about? Of course, I’m fried. The air is toxic. My city is in mourning. Elon Musk—I can neither physically nor mentally perceive him anymore. TikTok is censored now, because that’s what we needed. Possibly living in a technocracy? Hard to say. Project Stargate—what could go wrong!? Scam Altman. Lauren Sanchez’s lace bra and cleavage, seared into our brains. DeepSeek, deep state, deep fake. California is splitting at the seams. Newsom, Bass—names I whisper like a curse. They gotta go.

Sorry. That got a little slam poetry. Forgive me.

I scroll through Instagram, watching people make strides, pose for Paris Fashion Week. I guess they’re doing fine. The world’s still turning. I feel strange. Restless. Disconnected. I want out.

Please, God, let me find myself in Japan. At an onsen. Soaking in steam, a waterfall of mineral-rich water hitting my forehead with just enough pressure to switch my thoughts off. Or Hawaii—doing nothing but eating papaya on the sand and occasionally floating in the ocean.

If you’ve been reading On the Brink from the beginning, you know I’ve been calling the slow death of LA for a while now. Maybe “death” is harsh—misalignment feels more accurate. A city at odds with itself. As y’all know, I’ve been ready to leave. But now, everyone seems to be asking the same question: “Why am I here?” and “Should I go somewhere this doesn’t happen regularly?”

Fair.