
There is a conversation in Basic Instinct 2, a film probably only two people saw and half of them wrote this piece.
In the movie, the police psychiatrist asks writer Catherine Tramell, who is suspected with reckless driving causing the death of a lover:
“Do you ever write about yourself?”
She denies at which he asks her why not.
“Maybe I like to just sit back and get other people to reveal themselves. For instance, you look a little divorced.”
For over a decade, I did write about myself, and considered myself a diarist and erotica writer.
But by now, I’m enjoying sitting back getting other people to reveal themselves.
Without the smallest spark to ever reveal anything, ever again.
Instinctively, I’ve known this for a couple of years now. But it has definitely taken me a while to understand the Why, of not being an erotica writer, slash, diarist again.
The identifiable structure, underpinning it all.
Which was: normalcy.
Belonging.
A life of leaving no stone left unturned, and liberating myself from social and sexual constructs, was made possible because literally at the end of the day, I went to work as a yoga teacher.
And although the majority of my students knew I was also a writer, they always knew that was a separate world.
We all seemed to crave the yogaclass for its predictability and uneventfulness.
And that is a foundational structure to my life, that will never happen again.
Moving forward, I am aiming for a few markers that will bring parts of what I had back into my professional life.
Predictability, comradery, and even yoga itself.
But I do not see a way (yet?) to successfully lay out the full puzzle ever again.
And maybe ultimately, this turn is actually the way life intended it to be.
A good thing, in particular for that body of work that used to be my lived experience.
Because it has created distance from it, that allows me to start taking proper care of everything I wrote during those years.
To act as an agent and publisher of that past work, instead of still being consumed by the life that created it.
Like people inheriting and unpacking enormous collections or buying and restoring once abandoned houses.
I’m just happy to take care of it.
.~Lauren
An unexamined life is not worth living
Are 2200 characters, or less.
The series started in 2025, inspired by the book Fretz 2025 by Johan Fretz and asterisk from the movie Thunderbolts*
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Rage.
It happened when I had my own place again. And depending on how you count, you could say it was actually the very first time that I had my own place.
I’m just so curious, how this story ends!

“What message for my readers?”

