Today was not good.

It hurts to watch an animal in it's last moments. Such a destructive feeling. I experienced an almost unfathomable deal of grief and distress today over Lazlow, my poor fish, who is hanging on by a thread amidst illness that has caused him to take a turn for the worst. If things weren't worse, my work schedule means I just can't be there for him in his final days. Today, I gave him some medications to make his death as painless as possible. I felt sick myself when I saw him laying on his side, gasping and lethargic, and hardly able to move.

With it comes a flood of overwhelming guilt that is objectively unreasonable for such a small animal. The way I see it, aquariums are spaces that are completely controlled by the caretaker. The condition of the animals inside is the owner's complete responsibility. I know fish are sort of feeble, fickle animals to keep but I can't help but think that I have failed Lazlow despite my best efforts. He was one of the best fish I've ever kept, too. He was active and clever and I drained my bank account this last month trying to save him, but I just couldn't. I feel dreadful about it. I know it's unhealthy to think this way, but all I can tell myself is that I should've done better and that I failed. Lazlow brought me so much joy. I wish Will were here because he understands what it's like.

I just hope my fish is able to pass away peacefully.

Also, my dad wasn't able to come check on my animals with me today, unfortunately. But to make things worse, when I got home tonight my parents and I got into a screaming match which sucked because when people yell at me I just start crying. I always storm out because I get scared. I wish I could just be strong all the time, and stand up and defend myself, but I always end up with my tail between my legs. My parents were upset at me because of all these trivial little things and I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong anymore. It's my mom who always initiates these arguments but my dad will butt in if he's in the room and make things 100x worse by raising his voice at me. It makes me feel like I can't trust him either when he automatically takes Mom's side. Living here is just an absolute nightmare, far worse than it has ever been, and I'm becoming agitated. Impatient. I want to go home. If I had it my way, I would have stayed at the apartment for the holidays with my animals. It feels pathetic that cold-blooded animals with few emotions bring me more comfort and warmth than most people in my life.

I should probably write about how this Christmas sucks already, or how much stress I’m under, or how my mom said a racial slur at dinner last night and no one knows how to face her tomorrow, but I am sincerely too shocked to even know where to begin. I don’t want to sit here and preach about “the good stuff” either so I guess I’m in limbo at 3:50 AM on Christmas Day.

I am really sick of being here. I can’t wait to go back to college. Whatever shit I was complaining about while I was there pales in comparison to the torture that is my pathetic, decrepit mother who decided that saying the n word (with the hard r) was appropriate at dinner last night. Yeah. My sibling immediately engaged in argument with her and I simply put my hands up and went to my room. My mom stupidly defended herself and even tried to argue that us saying “ACAB” was comparable to racial slurs… to which I let out a deliberate, scornful laugh through the door. Later, I heard her trying to rationalize something to August through crying and pleading but I don’t know what came of that. Probably nothing. It’s hard to stay asleep from how anxious this situation has made me.

I wish a falling out would happen and I could be estranged from the woman altogether. I am thinking about starting work at school and trying to get my biggest assets in my name, such as my car, insurance, lease, etc.. There’s no way I can make that much while I’m studying but I figure the more financially independent I can be, the more control I can exercise over my familial relationships as a whole. I can’t hide my disdain forever.

I hope my mom is feeling the whole extent of shame and abandonment she deserves to feel for how she acts. When I said goodbye to my grandparents last night, she gave me this forlorn, teary look and I just stared blankly back. All the facades I put up just to tolerate her dissolved in that moment alone, so maybe she knows how I truly feel about her now. I fucking hope so. I hope she feels helpless and ashamed, but knowing her, she will probably bury the feeling of being wrong deep down until she can pretend that all is normal.

At least for me, this is just further proof. Evidence that my parents’ authority is not one to be heeded. My mother is not a respectable person, and given my tendency to forgive, I need every reason I can get to prove it to myself. I never imagined that my family might reach this level of chaos and misery, but we are well on our way. When I put everything into perspective, I just feel really disappointed and hurt. I don’t want to face the morning at all.

One thing on my bucket list that I was able to cross of the other day was plainly labeled “hang with The Boys”. There are no specific Boys in mind, I’ve just always had the desire to chill with a group of guys who call themselves “The Boys”. You know, just some dudes who are really close with each other to the point where they can shed all those masculine expectations set for them. From the outside, those groups of people always look so content and comfortable, even if they are doing stupid shit. I feel like, given my disposition, it’s the hardest type of group to infiltrate because of my sex so it has been on the list for awhile. I think I’m a little scary to most straight men. But I checked it off the other day thanks to Vic.

Vic grew up in Trenton with two people, Rony and Denzel, who are now his closest friends. He told me all sorts of stories about what it was like living in a poor area growing up and how their relationship got stronger as they got through it together. They were together almost every day apparently, mostly hanging out and getting high and sometimes shoplifting entire carts full of stuff from Walmart. But from the way Vic described his friends, I could tell they were both very interesting, intelligent people. Mostly because Vic is, too. Vic and I were both excited for me to one day meet them. Sure enough, that was the other night.

Something about being in a men’s dorm after 8:00PM feels a bit cursed. When I arrived, everyone was already baked and it was exactly what I anticipated from the so-called Boys. It was me, Vic, Rony, Denzel, and Vic’s roommate, Matt. Two of them were intently contemplating a game of chess, and the other two were playing Super Smash Bros. I received a brief cheer when I walked in, and immediately took a seat. Denzel asked me a lot of questions about myself and we had this great conversation about media. It’s so interesting, I’ve never met a guy like him before. He’s hilarious, to begin, but also really good at holding a conversation in a way that doesn’t feel one-sided. Same thing with Matt, who is a Literature major and was telling me about what his courses were like. They were so sweet and welcoming, and not in some weird creepy chivalrous sort of way. I immediately felt part of the group.

I’m quite analytical of that type of stuff. Conversations and dynamics and things like that. It’s really not every day that you can encounter a group of new people you feel instantly comfortable around, especially me since I always feel like I have to perform in groups like that. Admittedly, I overthought some things and probably said things that came off as sort of awkward ir nervous. I’m not known to be tactful. But they just don’t care, and that’s the difference. In situations like that sometimes I prefer to sit back and observe instead of actually interact, but I didn’t feel limited to that. One thing I found interesting was how a group of cisgender men could naturally generate a conversation on abortion (an agreeable one at that) and be so well spoken about it. I don’t meet a lot of men like that. Seriously, it was surreal. And really fun. REALLY fun. At one point we all crowded into Rony’s Toyota and went to the convenience store, where Denzel covered our ice cream costs and we all chilled out and watched a movie. They were such enthusiastic and kind people that I was able to loosen up for the first time in awhile, Vic and I have been so busy that it was much needed.

Vic also seemed pretty happy with how things went. He said it was exactly how he thought us meeting would go. I’m glad it went that way, too, just for his sake. Unfortunately, Rony and Denzel go to different colleges so they don’t come around often. But when they do, evidently I’ll be there for it because according to them I am now one of The Boys. Mission achieved.

I think if I had to choose between the two, I'd rather be blind than deaf.

Back when I learned about meditation and practiced it more frequently, I read somewhere that sensory deprivation was the key to subjecting oneself to the vulnerability and focus needed to meditate. In CBT I was encouraged to practice meditation specifically because of this; actively engaging with secondary senses was a helpful grounding technique for overstimulation and has saved me on numerous occasions. Common practices taught in meditation are identifying secondary senses to create a unique "image" of an environment and its subtleties, and also to become present. For me, it helped develop my listening skills especially. I think now I'd rather be in a permanent state of listening and not seeing than seeing and not listening. Things like language, conversation, music, and the sounds of places are more moving to me than anything I can see.

With everything going on in the world and in my life I find it hard to get back to formal meditation, even though I know from experience how beneficial it is for me. A lot of my writing here recently has been bitchy and conceited to say that least, even though I know I'm better than that. I used to take 15 minute chunks every day to close my eyes and think and I want to meditate like that again. I hardly practice voluntarily anymore, but some of the traits I developed from meditation are as potent as ever, especially traits that keep me happy. And that's where I think meditation and mindfulness practices are misunderstood in general. It's not sitting with your legs crossed and your fingertips together until you float, it's taking time to understand yourself and changing your mindset. When I was really honed in the art, back in late 2018 and early 2019, I would meditate on the bus, at school, and anywhere I really felt I could. I definitely attribute that practice to helping me deal with things I was going through at the time, and I was able to come out of situations as healthily as I probably could. I suddenly found ways to manage my OCD and anxiety, and I became a stronger person. Meditation is much more redeeming as an unconscious behavior than an active "tool" that is only used on occasion. The introspective skills that I developed during regular practice are without a doubt the most important ones I possess now because they enable me to have control over my mind and my body in a way that I never had previously.

Specifically with mediation, I remember one of the first realizations I made was that I am the only person who has control over my reactions to the outside world, and that totally opened the gate for me. It is a lot of responsibility to wake up to, and I think it's very... human to deviate from that line of thinking. Knowing that simple fact is the foundation for more intuitive, meaningful thinking. For instance, to elaborate on reactions, I think the next best epiphany was understanding that life is a very trivial, little thing that is hard to keep in perspective. We should think about what really matters to us, and what is really important in life. It's humbling to ask ourselves those questions, and it can change a person overnight. Suddenly a scuff on your new shoes doesn't annoy you. Being late for something is no longer so upsetting. And then you work yourself up to bigger things like getting lost or a fender bender or a parking ticket. Even if you want to let things like that get to you, why would you choose to be so angry all the time? The best realization to make is straight up that shit like that isn't worth it, especially if it's out of your control. It's not THAT important. You can choose to let it go and remain levelheaded. Once you get a handle on that, everything changes because suddenly you can evaluate if something is important and react to it accordingly. It can be something as simple as that. And yes, I'm aware that with all the stupid frustrations and triumphs I talk about on here it probably seems I don't take my own advice, and in some cases it certainly escapes me, but I hardly ever feel agitated by things that are out of my control anymore. Did wonders for my OCD, honestly.

I guess that's more of an example of evaluating what isn't important, though. When it comes to important things, introspection forces you to redefine your goals and intentions. I asked myself the same question for several different time brackets. What's important to me now? What will be important down the line? And what's important to me overall? Well for the first one, I can certainly say that my relationships are important to me, and establishing healthy support networks for myself. Down the line I place importance in stability, a meaningful career, and travelling. What is important to me overall, and I've stated it here before, is understanding as much as I possibly can about the world and being a genuine and loving person. Yes, even though humans have essentially doomed the world at this point. That can be a very overwhelming sense of hopelessness at times, but again, it's out of my control. I’d rather work with what I’ve got than feel limited by issues I can’t fix.

Those are just a couple key things that I've learned from meditation. I could get into how it made me a better person and changed my relationship with myself and my body, but ultimately I think it's better for people to come to those things on their own. Things like that are honestly pretty private to me, even though they are probably great writing topics. There came a point with meditation where I was completely in control of myself, and it has mostly stayed that way since. I place a lot of value in that. I was not exactly the most self-disciplined or happy child growing up despite my innocence, so I'm glad I was able to learn from it. In the end, I don't really regret or even loathe any of that because it eventually got me here, didn't it? Well, it's not like I endured the most despairing horrors known to man either, so maybe I just had an advantage.

Regardless, it doesn't change the fact that introspection flipped my life around completely at one point. I really should get back to practicing meditation. It's why I'm able to handle dissociation at the grocery store and also the reason I started keeping a blog. But it's more than that, too. I hope that many people are able to find the peace and relief that I have found in it. Especially with the current state of the world.

Since the semester started I've had quite a few uncomfortable encounters with people who just don't have a grasp on gender identity at all. Either that or they are deliberately disrespectful to me on purpose. Being non-binary and asking people to respect your pronouns (mine are they/them) is a great way to see how much a person is willing to understand you, and although my friend Vic is great with it, I can't say the same for other people at my university. I am still astonished by how little effort people are willing to afford me.

Things were good for the first month and a half. I'm not some pronoun Nazi who constantly bashes people for messing up my name or pronouns when I meet them. I don't get ridiculously uncomfortable by it either, and this has never been a problem. However, when you have to remind someone over the course of months to use your fucking pronouns it gets annoying. This one girl in my Mass Communications course, Jayda, is a repeat offender of wrong pronouns and although I've kindly asked her multiple times, she never improves. One of the hardest parts about being trans for me is being forward about these things because I don't like being a forward person. However, it has reached a point where Jayda makes the same degenerate excuse each time. Finally the other day I put my foot down and straight up told her how disrespectful she is for not even trying. And of course, the same daft apology. I don't care if it's the end of the semester. If she does it again I will straight up tell her how dislikable she has made herself.

In addition to Jayda, a couple weeks ago I realized that my professor in Mass Comm didn't even change my name in her roster. It wasn't a problem with attendance before so I didn't think anything of it. Until the other day when she announced my deadname to the class, which was bad by itself, but immediately after she corrected herself and so now everyone in that class knows my deadname. When I hear that name it fills me with dread. What made things worse was that a transphobic asshole in my class named Steve referred to me by it. If I weren't in class I would've hit him. I want so badly to tear the shit out of that guy, but I can't. The same kid told me he "doesn't have pronouns" so I stopped using them for him when I speak to him. I only refer to him by his name, Steve, and it's funny because he tries to be nice about it. Whenever someone messes up my name or pronouns in class, Vic and I just look at each other and laugh about the absurdity of it. The degree to which people just don't give a shit is amazing.

Aside from that, I've had professors mess it up innocently and just not know the etiquette of what to do in that situation. I'm not going to blame people for not being educated about the interests of trans people. But it definitely pisses me off when we are required to give our pronouns for something. I know it's supposed to create a "safer space", but my pronouns are something I'd rather not share until I talk one on one with someone and I know many people are the same way. It's annoying and pretentious for people to go around sharing their pronouns in my opinion. But I don't speak for everyone, I like to be more private about my gender identity and expression and I wish no one would even ask about it, frankly. I'm more than enthused to explain things to close friends or people who approach me because they want to learn. But I don't like having my pronouns on display like that, I don't like being exposed.

I'm definitely nitpicking. I didn't come out in high school so I never dealt with transphobia in person before. Online it's so easy to block people or humiliate them, but I can't beat the shit out of Steve/Steveself in class. I swear I don't even think about my gender identity until people pull shit like this. I didn't make a choice to be genderfluid. Maybe when the semester ends I'll invite that Steve kid out to a dark alley and kick him in the balls.

The other day when I was sick, I was supposed to go to the Genesis concert in Philadelphia with my roommate. Once I was able to determine that what I had wasn't viral, I did what any reasonable stupid stoner kid would do and pumped myself full of enough THC to kill eight full grown elephants and went anyways (my roommate drove). I figured, this would be my last shot at being in the same room with those synthesizers. I can't just not go. I don't recommend doing what I did just for the sake of it, but I would've been high at the Genesis concert anyways, so I'll cut myself some slack.

Once we were in the stadium and I effectively couldn't feel anything, I watched Genesis in all their glory and it was one of the most intense musical experiences I have had to this date. I was so zoned out from being in pain and high at the same time that I couldn't even move. I just sat completely still as Phil Collins blew my mind. I can't describe it realistically, honestly. For a good two and half hours the Wells Fargo Center might as well have been the center of the universe and it was like I was being dragged into a black hole. I could feel the bass throughout my whole body and everything was oscillating around me. By the time they played "Duchess", I was so far gone that I had to stop myself from crying. Okay, I sort of lied. I don't regret it at all. It was fucking amazing.

So yeah, Genesis. Pretty good band. I like having experiences with music like that, even if this time the circumstances were weird and stupid. Synthesizers have this weird power over me, I feel like I'm a cobra being charmed or something. Also I'm sorry Mom and Dad for doing drugs.

Right after Corey agreed to work on this project, we got to work brainstorming and pursued a more organized, concrete plan that I feel sort of crumbled away once we got comfortable. By the time we were on maybe the eighth or ninth track, we knew what we were doing and how we worked. What I like about our songs is that they are pretty diverse but there is still a clear, distinguishable style. A lot of it is heavy and loud and droning but there are also these interludes and calmer parts, all of it infused with our personal layers of irony. Corey is more of a music snob than me which is annoying at times, but I can see the influence reflected in the music he makes. The last song on the album, "Mega Song", actually sounds good to me and when he initially drafted it I almost wanted to reject it because of that. I think that draft is an excellent reflection of Corey's ability to understand music, even if it isn't a traditional genre. As for my role in the music creation, I would mostly throw ideas out and work with tracks that Corey would send me. I liked writing lyrics on a whim with the weird time signatures we were using and providing laughably bad vocals to them. I made sure to use a horrible microphone which is an inherent aspect of our style now, along with the overuse of delay and reverb. I was also more involved with sampling in our music than Corey. I found I could apply more irony and meaning through use of other media, and part of the "mystery" or our album I feel is reflected through the samples we decided to use. I drew from everything I knew... American Psycho, Metal Gear Solid, Talladega Nights, and most notably an array of obsolete soundbites from old internet memes. While my contributions were not as many as Corey and I lack his skill, I was able to become familiar with music production software and reached a point where I could create backing tracks myself. On a much less complex level than my creative partner, sure, but in terms of what we were attempting to do I think it adds to it. The album is meant to be silly and we succeeded at that. The way I see it, you can either make a piece of bad media that is boring and worth nothing, or you can make a piece of bad media that is bad in a way that is still engaging and interesting. In my opinion, we achieved the latter.

I knew from the beginning that Corey would probably take a dominant role in the music creation which is great because it gave me the wiggle room to assume the role of PR manager and graphic designer. For the cover, I had a vision from the start and had Corey send me some of his notebook drawings to twist into a psychedelic, colorful, bastardized state. Once initial editing of those sketches was done, I actually used MS Paint to deface it even further. Obviously most people don't see MS Paint as a top tier design program but a lot of thought went into that album cover. It doesn't look like something an adult would make, but a five-year-old couldn't create it either. I think that sums up our album pretty well, so it's a pretty decent cover in my opinion. I also used some other sketches Corey sent me to design our jewel case tray cards and inside track list. Overall it is aesthetically pleasing. Of the 20+ CDs/DVDs that were burned, each disc had a custom design and number which ties directly into our distribution. The art serves its purpose.

Distribution and promotion is currently where we're at. Initially, the plan was to get our music on Spotify, Apple Music, etc. but the publishing company I used rejected our music because it breaks the terms of service of these types of stores. Music that is considered defective, even if it's on purpose, just can't be put on these platforms. It was painstaking to go back in forth with the publishers and trying to understand if there was any chance of releasing the album that way, but it seems you can't just name a song "Bohemian Rhapsody" and have it not be a cover of the original song. We named it that because we thought it was funny and there's no way we wanted to change it. Corey and I decided that mainstream platforms weren't worthy of our music and that the integrity of our album was more important, so right now the only way to listen to our music is on BandCamp. I'm not sure we own all the rights to the music we created so it's the best platform for our music at the moment. Unfortunately, it isn't exactly enough to get people listening, which is where the CDs come in. Seven were burned for the specific purpose of leaving them in public spaces and hoping people take them. So far I've only planted one on my college campus. However, in addition to the CDs I created a flyer that is intended to pique people's curiosity. I don't want people to get the feeling that our music should be taken seriously, so our poster looks like this:
If that doesn't get people interested I don't know what will. Most of the listens we have on our album at the moment are from my private Instagram account. Shockingly, one of my followers genuinely liked the music and donated us $20 which exceeds the production cost of the album itself which was $0. Neither of us expected that to happen so we were pretty fucking happy with it. A few people messaged me about what they thought of our music and it was funny hearing their comments. Wrapper In The Wind was not exactly a flop when you think about it. I'm satisfied with it. I'm also confident in Corey and I's ability to work as a team on projects like this. Making music is something I'm bad at but I've always wanted an outlet to get familiar with it and not feel pressured or judged for my undeniable lack of talent. That novicey, at least I think, makes Wrapper In The Wind worth listening to.

I'm back at college. Thanksgiving was alright. I will say, I'm a thankful person in general but it's nice to have an excuse to express it. I'm really glad I got to see my family and friends this week even if they push my buttons sometimes. Frankly, I think a week is the maximum amount of time I am able to amicably exist around my mom without our relationship crumbling. By the end of the week my mom and I were getting sick of each other again which is how I've determined this. Even the smallest thing will remind me of why I don't like living with her. But yeah, I'm in college and I live alone. Who would want to go back and be nagged by their parent? Not me. We were fine for most of the week though. We watched a movie and made food together, the usual. I spent time with my Dad last week as well. He took me to the gun range and we shot his .22 rifle together along with his Glock, and even though I was nervous about maybe not being a sharpshooter like him, turns out it might be in our genes. I think going to the range might become a regular activity for us when I'm home. He also took me to the bar the other night after a friend flaked on me and we got to see his friend's band play their final performance. He always looks so genuinely happy to bring me with him. I love spending time with my dad.

Unfortunately that type of social stimulation slips away so quickly here at college. It's just so painfully lonely here, and I hate that it's the only thing I have to write about. Most of what I did have going for me here has sort of washed away as the workload has become more intense. The only two people I talk to regularly are Corey and a mutual friend of ours, and sure we do a ton of shit together but I think it's better to have a balance of real life friends and internet friends. My dilemma is that real life is slim pickens when it comes to people worth keeping close. I don't really have the opportunities to meet new people here, and when I do they disappoint me. Except for Vic of course, but he's a busy guy and I understand that. I never really thought this would be a problem when I went to college which is why it's bringing me down so hard. I had it going for me back home, too. Maybe the ball will start rolling when I join the radio station next semester.

Speaking of which, I can finally confirm to myself that radio is something I want to get into and hopefully make a career out of. It's going well for me. I've got the voice, I've got the musical knowledge, and I have more motivation than I know what to do with. I'm working hard towards it. A little while back I scrapped an entry about what kind of things I would do with a platform like that, and really it comes down to highlighting the voices of marginalized people. Other people's stories have changed how I think about things, and I want a platform to broadcast those stories to other people. I want to have meaningful discussions with other people because that's something I strive for in my life anyway. What better way than radio? Or maybe a talk show somewhere down the line. I could be like Ellen but without being an absolutely massive dick off camera.

In other news, Corey and I just finished and released an album that we have been working on since early October. That sounds like not a lot of time, but that's because we are both pretty... novice to say the least. And in my case, completely unexperienced with music production as a whole. Which is why we made it our goal to create music that sucks on purpose, just to be able to experiment without some golden standard to look up to. We ended up with 18 tracks and they are so bad we can't even get them published on Apple Music or Spotify or anything. Which I guess means that we succeeded, and God I had a great time making it. A lot of time, effort, and laughter went into creating it so even if it's a joke, it means a lot to me. I think it's important to have projects and outlets like that to fuck around and test your creativity. Corey and I had so much fun with it that we now have more projects in the work as a creative duo. Currently we are working on our Christmas EP.

That's pretty much all the stuff I forgot to talk about in November. Oh, I've also been listening to this one album on repeat lately. The Weather by Pond. I love finding albums that blow my mind the way this one does, especially albums from Australian new psych bands.

At my parent’s house there’s this cabinet filled with old media junk. It’s been the same me whole life, with CDs and DVDs and cassettes all thrown sort of randomly in there, although each one is precisely labeled. I was digging through there while pretty high today trying to find CDs for burning me and Corey’s freshly finished album onto (long story) and quickly became distracted by all the archival family footage. I made my mom load up some of the CDs on her laptop and we looked through some videos of me in 2006. It’s weird looking back on that footage now since I feel so disconnected from that little kid. My mom commented on the video nostalgically, with the same love and pride she had for that cute young version of me. It was kind of funny and endearing.

I like looking back on old stuff like that. Anything that predates me having a smartphone is mostly organized in a vast library of physical and digital media that my parents have carefully curated. They also have boxes of old school projects, holiday cards, lunch notes, drawings, and every Sandra Boynton family calendar dating back to like, 2007 or something. It’s a little insane. But that stuff really scratches an itch for me. I could go through it for hours. Most of it I haven’t seen before, but there a few things that I actually look at pretty regularly. Specifically a couple notes from my dad and a card he gave me for my birthday a couple years ago.

I feel there are very few stories I am incapable of telling on this blog, but they definitely exist. There is one in particular that ties into some deep seated trauma and since the subject matter is hard for other people to understand, I prefer to keep it under wraps. But back when it first happened when I was eight, my dad began leaving notes for me in my room to try and get me to come around. At the time I felt ashamed of myself and felt guilty that he had felt the need to reassure me like that, to the point where I loathed finding them. They were all little blurbs about what my dad loved about me, written in his distinctive dad-esque handwriting. I still have them. I put a few in my personal archive box because I felt horrible throwing them out, but looking back on them now, they are some of my most important possessions. I look at them once in awhile. I can’t really place why, they just mean a lot to me.

As for the birthday card, it’s one of those cheesy Hallmark cards with the bad photoshop and everything. But on the inside, my dad wrote “I love you for everything you are and what you will be.” Since I received it at 16 it has been a special momento of mine. Something I look at when I need to feel reassured. It’s something that when I think about it can easily make me cry.

Now that I’m at this age, obviously my parents don’t know everything about me anymore and I do a lot of junk they would definitely hate. I seriously worry about dying suddenly in a freak accident and they somehow read this blog. I’m pretty sure they’d flip at half of this stuff or feel like they failed or something. Obviously I don’t think they failed for the record. Or else I wouldn’t keep personal possessions like that so close to me. My parents love their kids more than anything and although we’ve all had our moments, I’m happy to have a healthy relationship with them now.

Looking through old media and items is a very intimate experience for me. I feel good about my early childhood even though I can’t remember most of it without the help of home videos and pictures and stuff. It keeps me humble and reminds me of what’s important. Even just watching those videos with my mom, I felt a closeness with her that I would never get any other way. Home media has a way of doing that to people.

Perhaps I was so lonely I forgot how much love I am fortunate to have in my life. At home, everyone seems so happy to see me. Every hug I received today was a breath of fresh air. It nearly drives me to tears to think that I occupy even the smallest part of these people’s hearts. It makes me wonder what I did to deserve such attention. Even when I get texts from friends and family at college, it always feels surprising.

However, something that actually drives me to tears can’t really be spoken. Right now, in my childhood bed in my childhood room, Charlie is laid out beside me and purring. When I cradle his little head in my hand, he leans himself in and the loneliness disappears completely.