I am finally angry about something in my life. If you didn't read the title.

So there's this... ongoing situation with my roommate, Emma. The only time I ever liked her was maybe the first few times I talked to her. Now she is the bane of my existence, and causing me an extreme amount of stress with here recent bullshit, that being, smoking weed inside the house. All night. Yeah.

When I moved into this apartment we had a "no smoking inside" agreement. It not only messes with our lease but just keeps this place from wreaking of weed because who would want that. Emma has her medical card (for some reason?) and has always respected this agreement and prior to July she would only smoke outside and in her room on occasion. That is, until she one day sent us a massive text blabbing about her "medical right" to smoke inside, which she went over with a law student friend of hers. This was after a few times of me complaining about the weed smell being tracked in after she smokes outside. First of all, her legal stuff is, as far as we can tell, bologna. It is still within our apartment complex's right to prohibit indoor smoking. Second of all, her practically demanding to smoke inside without any discussion breaks our roommate agreement and is just clearly inconsiderate. But Emma looks for excuses, not confrontation, and so she sent some garbage legal excuse. While I was home. While she was baked on the couch downstairs.

So I went down there and told her off. This was earlier this month. She didn't care. She even insisted that no smoking was never a condition when I moved in, which it was because if it wasn't I wouldn't have moved in.

Flash forward to now, she just got back from Florida and began smoking in the house again. I went downstairs and complained to her and she blew me off again. Tonight she did the same thing, and this time I snapped a little bit. I told her I'd do everything in my power to make her stop, basically told her to fuck herself, etc.. It's just such a frustrating situation. This morning I went to the office ladies and told them about the situation and they are sending a notice. They said if it keeps happening they will get their legal team involved but it's unclear how much they can do since Emma has her weed prescribed. My mom has also been trying to deal with the situation and said something to Emma's mom. I wanted to get something done that way since Emma is coddled by Mommy and Mommy can probably get her to stop. But if that doesn't work, it will be a lot of force from the apartment complex itself and of course me, and I have now made clear my intention to raise havoc.

My reasoning for not wanting smoke inside the house is pretty obvious. It smells up the whole apartment when she smokes downstairs, and medical weed has such a strong scent that it actually wakes me up if I'm asleep. I think that within itself is reasonable. She can always use a dab pen or edibles like me to avoid the smell, but she'd rather take four huge bong hits (before driving, no less). I also have pets downstairs. Gibraltar, and also my three lizards. Smoking indoors is not recommended with any of these animals. Even before Emma began smoking inside, people complained that our place smelled like weed. I don't want my stuff smelling like weed. Even if it's her "medical right", which it might not even be, the other factors in the situation beg that weed just not be smoked inside. For the safety of my pets, our items, and my down payment. I don't think this is unreasonable. When I brought it up to her, specifically the pet thing, she either blew me off or laughed.

I should also mention that Emma does not smoke responsibly. Although I guess I already have, seeing as she literally has to get high to drive. I've been thinking about reporting her to the police but I'm unsure of how to go about it. She also drinks and drives and already got one DUI in the time I've lived here. She buys tons of weed and tons of alcohol and has functioning dependencies to straight up chronic alcoholism. Her character is even worse than her drug habits. She is self important, ignorant, and borderline delusional with how she perceives her relationships with people. Honestly, I've learned my lesson from this now, but I have used her several times to get weed and alcohol for myself because it's just so fucking easy. I always pay her back, but I'm afraid this will be used against me if parents are involved. I don't really care about preserving her as a "plug", and I am far too upset with the situation now to ever consider that again I think. The one pro about Emma is that she doesn't care if I buy through her because my drug use is so insignificant in comparison. I am not addicted and incapable of personal betterment. Or critical thinking. Or basic thinking, honestly.

The worst part about this situation is that I am being used and I that, to me, is just completely unacceptable. Not just in a personal pride kind of way. It brings me a lot of anxiety, not to be confused with just stress, which, yes there is a lot of that, too. I feel stuck where I am because I can't do anything too malicious without it coming back to bite me, but also have to work in tandem with my mom and go through her whole formal argument rigmarole for anything to change. My mom told me not to get feisty but it's too late now. The text war I had with Emma today was rage-induced and harmful to the efforts I'm trying to make to get her to stop in other areas. I don't think I've been this angry at anyone before and it occurred to me that I don't know how to deal with it. But I just can't stand being taken advantage of, especially by a lowlife junkie. It's infuriating and so, so stressful. I can't get used to it or get it out of my head, especially at night when the weed fumes seep into my room and make my throat hurt. Admittedly, I've resorted to what I tend to do when I'm frustrated and have been self harming. Not in the cutting way, it's different than that but still destructive and dangerous for my body. In addition to getting Emma to stop, I also need to deal with this and the lack of sleep in the meantime. I can't expect the people involved to sympathize or even begin to understand this, but it is really starting to take a toll on me. Just all of it, in general.

I have already looked into moving out before this was a problem, but there is no reasonable way for me to do so. Apartments in Galloway are slim and there is the challenge of finding a roommate to replace me even if I did find a place to stay. How would I even begin to explain that to my replacement? There's also the problem of actually moving, which would require a lot of time and manpower. My parents would have to help in that case and I don't know how to hide all my alcohol, weed, and other private stuff from them. It seems like any option would create a mountain of stress that I can't deal with now since I'm leaving for Europe in 19 days, and after that, school starts immediately.

I'm thinking that maybe I could transfer schools or something. Go to the UK maybe. That would be the real dream, but that's expensive as fuck as well. I guess we'll just see how it goes. I think I'll probably end up staying here on really bad terms with both my roommates. (The other one, Jade, is a whole other story...) But for now, I'm gonna be annoyingly ironic and get high to take my mind of this. And maybe just sleep. It's difficult when I feel so trapped and stressed like this.

May 31st was not a very fun day. This whole week has been not very fun, or, well, it’s misery under the guise of fun I guess? I've been in Georgia and usually the whole "not being home" thing excites me, but vacation isn't really vacation when I'm with my parents at this age. Just like family isn't family, and fun isn't fun.

I got in a huge argument with my mom on the 31st. Recently things have been difficult with her because I probably wasn't as cautious as I should have been with her in regards to my... relationships with other people. I guess. She has me figured out in ways I don't like, or at least she thinks she does. Basically, she made some offhand comment to me the other day. One of those "I'm going to say this because I don't trust you enough to assume you would do this without me telling you to" types of comments. "You better text me every day when you are in the UK! I need the names and addresses of these people you are staying with." It peeves me. Not because I don't want to be safe, not because the action itself necessarily bothers me. It's because it's my control freak mom asking, and I feel uncomfortable giving into anything when it comes to her these days. During May it became especially weird. I don't really get the impression that she trusts me and I don't really aim for that anymore, to be fair, but it has caused her to become almost obsessively judgmental. Looking back I think she always was, I just needed to reach that point where I was no longer in line with any vision she had for me. She's so skeptical, and has gone back on some of her "values" now that they pertain to me. It's shitty.

But anyways, she threw a huge fit about this UK thing when I said I'm not going to give her all that information, and she didn't hesitate to shout at me within two seconds of that. It lasted forever it felt like. Eventually, I had to yell at her to stop over and over because she refused to disengage. It makes me so upset just thinking about it, honestly. The argument was so bad that I left the house without dinner just as my grandparents pulled into our driveway. I felt sorta bad about that part initially, but I don't now. As I walked away my mom stood in the driveway and gave me a coarse "Excuse me?" I looked back at her, made up my mind, and left. I went to a schoolyard, found a corner, sat down, and cried.

About 30 minutes later my dad asked where I was so he could pick me up and talk to me. I agreed because even though my mom keeps that guy on a short leash, he's a good parent. I was upfront with him this time with everything. I don't want to get in depth about this conversation. My dad wants to fix things, but I warned him that he might not be able to. I just want to run away, which is pretty hard to do when you are stuck in the car with you parents for 13 hours heading to Georgia. Yes, this happened the day before we left. Everything about that road trip sucked. Even worse, my parents booked this really small rental with only one bedroom and no doors besides the bathroom, so I have had practically no privacy for the last four days. At all. In any sense. Even writing this right now is difficult. I've been dragged all over Savannah with my parents, who I now know would rather keep me in line and unhappy with them than let me be myself. I can't curse or express myself or offer any idea without being chastised and shut down. I've just started remaining quiet altogether because it only stays funny for so long. Every night I've been here I've just dreamt of my bed at home. My weighted blanket, my cozy pillows, and you know, my right to be my own person. I miss my cat. I miss my own company. I did some cool things by myself here and had some really awesome food, but aside from that it's just a load of pretending and I'm really not into it.

So I think I'm going to be like August. I know I said I didn't want to be like them, but I see how much healthier they are here when Mom and Dad aren't around. We spent some time together on Wednesday night at their apartment. They are the happiest they've ever been, with a healthy relationship and great friends and no Mom. Around our parents they turn back into that reserved, monotone August I always knew at home. They told me they won't be calling our mom nearly as much as she thinks once they start paying their own rent, and I can't blame them. I truly think it's the best option for both of us.

This is a hard thing to say but I don't really think happy thoughts when I think about family anymore. It gets exhausting waiting and hoping that things will change only to be let down over and over again. I want family that feels like family. I want to be supported and loved for who I am, not constantly reminded of who I couldn't be. Maybe one day I will find it, but what I know now and what August knows is that I will not find it here.

I’m depressed. There’s not much else to say. I hate when this happens because most of the beauty of life just gets sucked away and I can’t force myself to feel better because if it were that easy, I’d never be depressed. No amount of rational thought can fix it. “It’s in your head!” Yes, good job, where else would it be? Where did you think it was? A fair bit is hormonal, admittedly, but I don’t think “my glands” is a great answer to the question.

Recently (as in the last month) I have been sleeping for 11+ hours a day when I usually sleep for eight or nine. I stay in bed for a couple more hours because I can’t think of anything good to do, even if I have projects to work on. I burned some CDs and stuff last week and that’s basically it. The motivation is completely gone. Honestly, I couldn’t even tell you what I do all day… I watch a lot of House now. I eat like, one meal a day. And I talk to people online. Vic hasn’t really been keeping in touch so I have literally no one in real life to talk to and hang out with, at least no one my age. I know that’s why I’m always sad and listless. I feel kind of like a bird who lost its eggs and has nothing to sit on, nothing to take care of, only time to waste until next season. I desperately crave company and I can’t think of a single way to get it since everyone is home for the summer. Meanwhile I’m trapped here at Stockton.

My drug use hasn’t been bad like it was the last time I was like this. In fact, I’m smoking much less weed. When I do it makes me feel normal and happy and I think that’s how people become addicted to things like that so I’m taking it easy. This being said, I cry so regularly now that I make sure I get it out before I shower or wear makeup. It is tempting to just be high all the time. Living like this is so fun and quirky!

This is all that has been on my mind really. I could tell you about The Exploited show or seeing The Dead Milkmen last week but it’s the same old story. Get high, end up on stage, leave covered in various unknown liquids, you know the drill. My radio show is up and running though so that’s been the one good hobby I’ve really been holding on to right now. 2-4 PM EST on Mondays, 91.7 WLFR. If anyone reading this cares to listen, you can find the streaming link easily online.

I’m going to Georgia soon. The 1st of June to the 5th. Maybe that will get my spirits up for at least a little while. I’ve been swimming and hiking by myself so at least I stay kinda active. Still, as good as it is to enjoy summer, something is just holding me back and I wish I could sleep the next two months away or something. Or maybe the universe can bring me a best friend to swim and hike and watch House with. Please?

A week or so ago I was in a really good mood. It was a nice day and I had some errands to run, so I was out in Galloway blasting my music and enjoying my day.

Someone once told me my happiness is contagious, and I guess maybe it is for some people. I've definitely met folks who don't entertain the same playfulness, but once in awhile I'll find myself sharing some interesting experience with a stranger. Honestly, I think it's just because my voice is expressive. Maybe I seem easily approachable when I'm in a good mood. I sure hope so.

Anyways, I went to get gas the other day at the local chainless gas station because it has the lowest prices at the moment. $4.01 a gallon last week when I was there, and now they are down to $3.97. The place was packed, cars waiting in a line and gas attendants frantic because, well... that's Jersey. I rolled up and fiddled with my music and began singing along to something I forget until one of the attendants came up to serve me. He was older, in his 50s or early 60s, and had a grizzled gray face. He kind of looked like a lumberjack or a person from a fantasy game. And after he took my card and I told him the usual, "fillerupregular please thank you", he came back and just asked me on the spot:

"How many miserable people do you think there are?"

I kinda laughed at first because it caught me off guard.

"You mean just in general? Or..."

"Just here."

Odd question. I turned it over in my head a bit and thought back to my experience in service positions. I couldn't tell you how many miserable people there are in New Jersey. Probably a lot. Especially when they have to buy gas and are in a hurry. The road culture is one of the worst things about this state. A lot of people are always in a rush.

"I'd say it's like 50/50."

Then he looked me dead in the eyes and said,

"Here it's more like 20/80."

I'm not really sure why he asked me that. Maybe just to express frustration with the nature of such jobs. We talked and laughed a little more about I forget what until my tank was full. I was surprised he stuck around considering the place was so busy, but it was just one of those things. One of those things that sticks with me until I finally write about it. I don't know.

I am burnt out again, and in most capacities, I am bored.

What really is there to do around here? Coursework, sure. Hang out with Vic, get high, go to the convenience store purely out of boredom... and that's it. You need money to have a good time around here, at least in winter. It's brining me down. I'm definitely not on my peak game at the moment and that feeling of slipping is reminiscent of high school. I feel like I'm becoming useless to myself again, and that's the last way I want to feel.

I don't get it. Recently I've felt that I've had everything I've ever wanted in my life, shouldn't it feel spectacular? In many ways it does, but not overall. I think I am just sad or something. I'm wondering if it might have something to do with my poor eating habits recently, although as far as I can tell that is a side effect of being bummed out. This past week I've only made food for myself once a day out of obligation, and that has to catch up with me at some point. It could also just be that my workload keeps me on my toes, in which case, I need to relax. Nothing can be perfect all the time, right? But I am terrified of failure. Oh well, that's life I guess. Knowing myself, whatever it is will work itself out in time. The next entry I'll probably be just fine and dandy again.

I will fly into London, and then go from Heathrow Airport directly to Westbury. I'm staying from August 17th to the 30th, which will give ample time for me to drive Corey insane. We are going to go to Bristol and Frome and wherever the fuck, I don't really care, I'm excited out of my mind. For years I've dreamed up those "What if we met?" hypotheticals with people... it's shocking to think that I have the power to make something real. I'm both ecstatic and terrified- definitely nervous as much as I am pumped. I think back to times in my life where I would give anything to meet a person in real life. All of those hopes fizzled out as the years passed and we found ourselves growing apart, incapable of making anything come true. What I felt then when I was close with those people was in retrospect a bit misguided considering the types of people they often were, but it was just a relentless yearning. I was frustrated by the fact that I would probably never meet them, and I didn't. For a few people it is still sorrowful to think about what could've been and what never was. I dread to think of having that happen again, especially now that I have the freedom to make it work out.

It is likely unsurprising that the inability to interact with my closest friends in person growing up affected me negatively. I still find it difficult to make close friends in real life, and I can't say I get close to them the same way. The way I see it, the internet is a portal to escape the pool of people in my daily life and all the given commonalities they share just from living where they do. I like being around them, but it's hard to find people who are just vastly different to me in terms of lifestyle. I value the relationships that challenge my perception of the world and open me to new things. That holds a lot of weight to me. At the same time, I find it nearly impossible to meet people who are like me, in the areas where it matters, at least. Emotionally I feel that I can be a bit demanding of people. I guess that's how I'd put it. In the humongous schema of all my friends, there are very few who I feel just "get it". I can't really find the words for it, but those are people who I value so, so deeply. Patient, compassionate, engaging people. I've said it here before but I like when people bring out the best in me. It's amazing that connections like that can exist online, and that it's easier for me that way.

Aside from that, there are other real life limitations that make the internet more conducive to deep connections for me, hypochondria and social anxiety being the main ones. It's often a struggle for me to exist around people physically. Being touched can be unsettling and even anxiety-inducing, and I just ooze discomfort and awkwardness all the time around people my age. It may be irrational and frankly not very apparent but it is an obstacle, almost like a mental firewall. I am working on it in therapy and I hope to be rid of it one day, but for now the internet is a place where I can be free of all of those fears. My internet friends get to see an elusive side of me. It makes this opportunity that I've just guaranteed myself pretty unique. I don't think I will have the same physical limitations with Corey because I already know him, but I can't be 100% sure. I can usually think of a person and accurately gauge my physical comfort with them but I've never been able to "test" that with someone I've never actually been around. So we will see. If things are how I suspect, it would be good progress with pushing my boundaries. But then again, so will travelling alone to the UK. It's bound to be an interesting trip. I can't even express my emotions in writing.

The next six months, I surmise, will be quite long.

I had a good day on Tuesday blah blah blah Bagel Club went well and so did the radio station, nothing I want to talk about even though Tuesday was amazing or whatever.

Call this harping on the bad, but on Wednesday my car was broken into. I swear this is much funnier than it sounds. Broken into while parked outside of my home, nonetheless. I opened my door to find the contents of my glovebox all over the seat and my chocolate vodka cherries MISSING. As well as my ABBA cassette and a couple CDs. They also took my embroidered seat covers which I guess sucks but it isn't too bad. Honestly, when I found my car in that state I just started laughing because I was really looking forward to those chocolates. Having them stolen from my car is the most "that would happen to Ricky" thing ever. It gave me a good laugh, I'm just glad nothing important was taken. I let the ladies at the front desk of my complex know and they said a few people had called about having their cars stolen from as well. I hope whoever it was enjoys those discontinued Trader Joe's chocolates with the high alcohol content, as well as my beloved ABBA cassette. It's a bit sad and I feel violated but what matters is that nothing critical was gone, not like I keep important stuff in my car anyway.

I also had a bit of a sobering moment the other day where I came to the realization that I've actually been pretty ungrateful recently. I get upset frequently, as well as jealous and petty. I know I wrote the other day about being generally unhappy and while that isn't untrue, I feel like there are things about that that are within my control. I have a lot going for me right now in life with Bagel Club and the radio station and my classes, and that's all great, but using that as my requirements for being happy is actually dragging me down. There was a time of about eight years where I dreamed of the academic success and motivation that I have now and thought that it would relieve all of my anxiety. Now I know that while I love what I have been able to achieve in university, it does not fulfill me in the slightest. What fulfills me is being able to see that what I do here brings joy to other people, and I can't think of anything more important for my own happiness than that. Status and success are cool and all, but they really aren't all they're cracked up to be. They pretty much mean nothing if you are desolate all the time. While I admittedly feel that way frequently, it doesn't mean that I should be taking the people I do have for granted because I might as well have nothing without them. I don't really know how to explain it. I spent a long time thinking, and coming out of it I guess I just feel a little more clear about what I need.

I might take a short break from writing since I feel I have some things I need to work out with myself right now. Sometimes this place turns into a constant stream of life updates and nothing of actual substance, so I'd like to step away from that for a little while. As much as I love to word vomit, it gets me nowhere.

I’ve had an immense interest in aviation and flying for as long as I can remember. It’s one of those things that I sit and think about constantly, multiple times a day at times. I don’t know what it is about flight and gliding that has such a grip on me, but it just does. This lifelong passion has luckily given me many fascinating experiences and observations while growing up, from catching butterflies to going up in an open cockpit plane. I feel that many of my happiest moments have been around birds and planes and things of that sort, and every time I reignite my will to learn about flight I find myself even more and more humbled by all that encompasses it, from evolution of species to evolution of human creation. It really is just a wonderful thing.

One thing I have done since I was young of is imagine what it would be like to have huge angel wings and be able to fly. It’s a very common dream for many people I think, because humans just find the idea of flight attractive. We can sit and contemplate what it would be like, where we would go, what we’d see. For me I think if I grew a pair of wings right now, I’d fly to Ocean City and Atlantic City. I like to imagine looking down at all of the lights and microscopic structures below, like looking out of a plane but it’s all right in front of me instead of outside of a tragically tiny window. It would be overwhelming to witness everything I know on the ground from above I think, particularly the ocean. I had an experience like that once at my hometown’s local airport, where I went up in a Cessna and flew over northern New Jersey. I could see all the way from Pequannock to New York City, which is hardly possible from the ground. From the sky, the Earth seems so small and peaceful. I feel that every time I get to fly anywhere. If I had wings I could escape everything that drags me down on and to Earth, and I would probably become addicted to it. It would go beyond completing my life. Maybe one day the feeling will be satisfied with a pilot’s license, which I hope to get later in life.

I am also really into birds and birdwatching, and keep a tabbed field guide of birds that I see. I like raptors best because of how their wings are especially maneuverable and efficient for hunting. The evolution of birds and other flying species is something I know a lot about and love to talk about with other interested people. Archaeopteryx, the transitional species between dinosaur and bird, is my favorite extinct animal ever since I learned about it in taxonomy class in high school. It’s incredible how nature can over-engineer an animal over the course of millions of years until it is able to fly, and with such grace and efficiency. It’s really just marvelous to me.

In late elementary school, my dad started talking to me about his time in the Air Force and I fell into the world of plane hobbyists. We used to go to airshows together all the time, fond memories that I still hold close. I consume a worrisome amount of information regularly about planes and their histories, specifically airliners. Traveling by air is generally my favorite part of any trip. To this day I still daydream about flying on a Boeing 747, in which case afterwards I would feel content and ready to die. It’s weird because my dad actually hates flying and would rather have his feet on the ground. He doesn’t exactly share my excitement. Still, I wish he could see how much I really know about planes now and how he helped inspire that within me. We have gone to such cool landmarks of aviation history together and seen some extraordinary aircraft. My favorite plane has for a long time been the PT-17 Stearman Kaydet, but I also like the De Havilland Comet, MiG-25, and the Lockheed C-5 (as well as their respective histories). Since I live near an international airport and the military base my dad served at, I get to see my fair share of planes here and often at low altitudes. If I hear a plane, I tend to look up and stare at it. Coincidentally, “plane” was my first word.

The closest I’ve been to feeling like I was flying was when I went hang gliding at 13 in the Outer Banks. The guide I went up with caught a draft and we stayed up there for over 15 minutes. I am terrified of falling, but when I looked down from 7,000 feet up I felt overcome with pure joy. The wind was through my hair, and the earth was all the way down there, and it was like I was physically and emotionally zoomed out from the rest of the world. I guess it’s like a mild version of what astronauts feel when they look back at Earth from space and start crying. Those 15 minutes felt like a wonderful eternity, and I know I have to do that again in my life. It was incredible.

I feel immensely lucky to have things I’m interested in like flight. It is such an enriching hobby to have. In my life, I want to learn as much about it as there is to know and more. My knowledge about things relating to this outweighs anything else I know, sometimes filling the gaps of actual practical knowledge I should probably have. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m just like, really, really into flight, and I’m sure I will be until I die.

So I've been keeping a blog for almost an entire year now. I consider 2021 to be "The Year I Started Writing" and I have seen so much improvement in so many areas, both personally and with skills. When I started keeping a regular journal, I didn't know that I would be going into a writing-heavy major so it has definitely come to my aid.

My first entries here are pretty basic. Mostly descriptive writing and imagery; there's a lot of entries I don't really care for anymore. When I look back at the first anecdotes I wrote, there is a distinct lack of detail that I feel I've grown out of with time. Dreamwidth, for me, is all about putting my daily experiences and emotions into words and to do that accurately takes time, patience, and usually hours in front of my keyboard. I have clearly become more efficient at articulating my thoughts and ideas, even in regular everyday speech.

I also attribute my sharper memory to regular writing, which has made me much more acute to detail than I ever was in the past. Putting something on paper makes gives it a permanent place in my brain. Most, if not all of things I've written about here are stories I can bring up off the top of my head and explain in full detail. It's a stark change considering I used to be quite scatterbrained and forgetful. Fleshing out a memory in full has made me a stronger storyteller, which I think will serve to benefit me in my future career. But even just with my personality, I am able to think more critically and make more connections between ideas. It has made this year one of the most important in terms of my beliefs and ethics.

I originally chose Dreamwidth because it is the place where no one expects a person of my age to be. It's sleepy, private, and very manageable compared to many modern social media or blog platforms. I have much more control over who sees my writing, and it is easily customizable which was a huge plus when I was looking for a blog site. This being said, I have also developed a love for this platform because the vibe is so different from the other mediums I interact with in my daily life. Here I can sort of unwind and talk freely. I don't set boundaries for my writing here like I do for other platforms like Instagram. It is, in every aspect, an outlet where I don't have to fear the judgement of others and I think that is fundamental in my self expression.

I think the most significant thing I have learned from 2021 is that I really do have a passion for writing. It is something I love to do, and I think about it constantly. Regardless of whether I'm writing about some stellar experience I had or bitching about my life, I truly enjoy every moment I am able to sit in front of my computer and manifest whatever it is I'm feeling. It has become an irreplaceable part of my life.

I am looking forward to another year on Dreamwidth, hopefully with more writing in these early months than last year. The winter months tend to be my roughest, but writing has put into perspective just how temporary (yet valuable) these experiences are. I already have some entry ideas in mind for this month and I am excited to talk about them.

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.