Dear Diary: Love, Death, and L.A.

Dear Diary: Love, Death, and L.A.

In her monthly column for V, Liz Nistico, on half of pop duo Holychild, takes us into her world, her mind, and her experiences as an artist in an industry fixated on polished personae.

In her monthly column for V, Liz Nistico, on half of pop duo Holychild, takes us into her world, her mind, and her experiences as an artist in an industry fixated on polished personae.

November 1

When everything is better it feels like the difficult time didn’t exist.

November 2

The only bad thing about getting older is the growing weight of responsibility. Or worded more accurately, the newfound pressure to be a “role model.” But, upon examination, it might just be in my head.

November 3

Something to remember: When you were on the operating table for the second time and one month after your abortion (and within the medical window of still reading positive despite said abortion) you were required to do another urine test and you sat on the table knowing it would be two lines or a + or whatever their fucking indicator is. The nurse, who you hadn’t met, shakily called the man shoving IVs in your arm. “Jeff?” or whatever his name was. The end went up like a question meant to be answered with panic. The whole thing was pitiful. They clearly don’t get many pregnant people on their tables (they can’t operate like that) and this lady fancied herself a small role in a made-for-TV movie where she was about to come to your side and give you news that would change your life. But you had heard it before, and it was old. So before she reached the climax of her character you told her you knew what she was up to and so did the guy with needles to your right and life is much bleaker or more chaotic than what’s on TV—you just can’t tell which.

November 8

Donald Trump was just elected President of the United States of America. Wow. That feels fucking crazy. I don’t know this place.

November 14

How it feels right now: It’s sunny and nearly 80 degrees in southern California. Los Angeles in November is a world of its own. Los Angeles in November 2016 is a world of its own. When you're driving and someone cuts you off you can only be so mad because probably that person voted for Hillary (or so I assume since we’re in LA—its own world) therefore how different can you be?

November 18

I hope I always remember how much I’m capable of as exemplified by the hardships of 2016.

November 20

I was bleeding I was crying but you didn’t show

Is it cause I made the grave in which to wallow?

Come on everyone is trying just to get through

I’m no different. I’m the same. Honey, it’s me too.

November 28

We took a taxi to Nonna and Nonno’s grave. On the way, we almost got into a fatal car accident but the angels saved us. The cemetery was dark at night but finding their grave was easy. I laid down where their bodies were and I felt them at the cemetery at midnight.

On the way home our phones died so we walked eight miles until we found a CVS where he got a phone charger that pulses light (“This is my thing now”). We ordered hot chocolate and french fries at the diner next door and I fell in love.

November 30

I started seeing a therapist and everyone in my life thinks it’s long overdue...

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