This really resonates with me today as I have jetlag from flying home from New York yesterday. I had ambitions to write today, but I can barely string two words together and just want to rot on the couch instead.
Diana Cherry’s piece is a soul laid bare tender, exhausted, defiant. What makes it so heartbreakingly human is the way she writes through the fog, not around it. Her creativity isn’t romanticised; it’s blood and bone, stretched thin between deadlines, power outages, and the ache of the world. She doesn’t just make art she survives it. The image of her couch-rotting, thinking of Assata Shakur, is not weakness it’s resistance. It’s proof that even in captivity, joy can be stolen back. That intimacy, rest, and creation are acts of rebellion. Diana reminds us that being alive isn’t tidy. It’s messy, sacred, and worth fighting for even when the fight is just getting out of bed.
This really resonates with me today as I have jetlag from flying home from New York yesterday. I had ambitions to write today, but I can barely string two words together and just want to rot on the couch instead.
I hope you get the chance to couch rot. Highly recommend! Thanks for reading ❤️
Diana Cherry’s piece is a soul laid bare tender, exhausted, defiant. What makes it so heartbreakingly human is the way she writes through the fog, not around it. Her creativity isn’t romanticised; it’s blood and bone, stretched thin between deadlines, power outages, and the ache of the world. She doesn’t just make art she survives it. The image of her couch-rotting, thinking of Assata Shakur, is not weakness it’s resistance. It’s proof that even in captivity, joy can be stolen back. That intimacy, rest, and creation are acts of rebellion. Diana reminds us that being alive isn’t tidy. It’s messy, sacred, and worth fighting for even when the fight is just getting out of bed.
Thank you for the thoughtful comment! ❤️