Had an off day today. I slept in until about 1:20 PM, unthinkable for me. Something feels wrong with me… Maybe it’s hormonal. My period came over a week early; I feel kind of weird. Not awful, maybe not even bad, but something feels wrong, physically. My back is really sore. Maybe that’s it.

I’m at my mom’s house. She’s away for the day & night. I came here with my sister. The only reason I came was to see my brother. This house is weird. Christmas night, my sister said my mom started taking down the decorations & then getting rid of furniture. She took our family pictures off the wall & said we can’t eat at the dining table anymore. It’s really empty in here. The things she did keep are neatly arranged, but it all looks strange, like an alien put these human items out without knowing their purpose. She took the automatic tea kettle & honey & sugar out of the kitchen, & she threw away a bunch of our tea. When I went to make my brother & myself some tea, I had to stand in the dining room & do it. Well, it’s not a dining room anymore, because apparently we’re not allowed to eat at the table, unless it’s “as a family.” Everyone is this house is fucking crazy. I’m not even surprised… She hasn’t done anything this extreme before, but my mother has this cycle of throwing everything out, perfectly good things, & then buying new things to replace them, then she eventually throws those new things out & the consumerist cycle continues forth. I just feel bad for her. She doesn’t have the money to be doing things like this. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, not being able to help someone because they won’t help themselves.

After waking up in the afternoon, I finished my book, The Forest Brims Over by Maru Ayase. Quick enough read, held my attention, but ultimately mediocre. I’ll write my thoughts about it elsewhere. Went for a short walk & I don’t remember any of it, mind was foggy. The news forecast said to expect fog, maybe that’s what they meant. I greeted my little brother after he got home from school & then took a bath. I scrubbed the tub with cleaner before getting in, bruised one of my knees, but I didn’t mind. Cleaning it felt nice somehow, purposeful. I laid in the tub for a while, really enjoyed it. Spent some time thinking. Read some of Convenience Store Woman in the tub, a reread for me.

Went on another walk after my bath, while my sister was watching our brother play with the neighbor kids. I tend to walk really fast, even when going on a leisurely walk I tend to either be speed walking or somewhere bordering a jog. I’ve had others tell me that they wanted to talk to me, but I seemed to be in a bad mood & in such a hurry. I’m almost never in a hurry, but oh well. I came back to the house & collapsed on a lawn chair next to my sister, listening to my little brother & the neighbor kids argue about whether or not a goal counted in their game. I closed my eyes & just felt the breeze. It was sunset, maybe dusk. It felt so nice. I wish my words could replicate that feeling.

It feels odd to have so little to write about, but I haven't been awake for very long, haven't really done anything today. I should probably eat something. I don't feel very good, but I don't feel very bad either.

Tired from the flight back home. Back hurts from carrying a carry-on backpack full of books, the same backpack that I hurt my back with back in October. Tired & sore & more sad than I thought. It was hard to say goodbye. I think my grandpa & I said goodbye three times, going back to hug each other again. I’m actually crying as I write this, but it’s okay. At least I have something that I care about to the point of tears.

I’m going to see my little brother tomorrow, for the first time in almost a month. When he was a baby & when I was a kid, I thought to myself that I wish he’d care enough to cry when I was leaving. I don’t know why I’d thought such a selfish thing, but I did, until one day he actually did it & it felt awful.

Nothing else to say.

Laying on the couch, still feeling sad. Thinking about who I'd like to be.

This is my last day in Oregon. I leave tomorrow & make it home in the night. No work the week that I get back. We did nothing particularly ceremonious today. It was just like the rest of my days here, but that was okay with me. It made it easier to avoid thinking about the fact that I won’t be back here for a while; that by the next time I come here it’ll be hard all over again to make conversation with everyone, that it’ll feel like we’re playing catch up; that I won’t remember what the weather or the trees are like; that by the time I come back here, this old roof will be gone, replaced, & I won’t be able to hear the rain on it anymore.

I slept in today, a bit, until 9:45 AM or so. I don’t know if I can call this a nightmare, because I didn’t feel fear- I felt anxious & insecure- but I had a dream where I was in Japan with E, the way we’re planning this summer, & I don’t know what her phrasing was, but she told me that she despised me, she was so resentful of me. It was actually a lucid dream; As she was saying these cruel things to me, I thought to myself that the real E would never say these things to me, I must be dreaming, I need to wake up, & so I did. I’m not normally bothered by nightmares, but I can still distinctly recall that absolutely pathetic feeling that I’d had, even though I’d known that nothing happening was true, was real. I laid there in the slightly awkward position I’d woken up in on the couch for a bit. I was almost completely sitting up, propped up on a hair dye stained pillow. I just stared at the ceiling for a bit, till my grandpa walked out & asked if I wanted to go back to Kinokuniya, because his Christmas gift to me was a Kinokuniya gift card, only he didn’t call it Kinokuniya; I think he called it the “Oriental bookstore,” because he’s old.

As I walked through Kinokuniya, unsure of what to buy, I was met with a Yoshitomo Nara art book staring right at me, called The Beginning Place, & I truly mean that it was staring at me, as its cover was one of his paintings of a girl, crying, looking directly at the viewer. As I leafed through the book, I thought about how the last time I came to Oregon, back in July, we had gone to Powell’s & my aunt & uncle bought me the Yoshitomo Nara LACMA art book. This seemed meaningful to me, but I can’t explain how. I got my book & my grandfather bought me some plane snacks from the grocery store attached to the Kinokuniya. We got salmon flake onigiri. It was the first time my grandfather had tried it, but he liked it.

When we left, we stopped for coffee but each got a frappe. There are all of these little coffee huts, shacks, everywhere you go in Oregon. I wish we had them at home. On our way back to the house, we stopped for a moment at a hiking trail, so my grandpa’s dog could run around. We saw this lady walking her horse, bay colored. Couldn’t stop looking at the horse as they passed. The woman could feel my eyes & waved at us. After a few minutes on the hiking trail, we went to the house. During our drives today, I was somehow even more cognizant of the trees around me, the landscape, how I won’t see it for a while.

After we got back, my aunt helped me pack my luggage. Packing it made me anxious about the flight, made me sick to my stomach, but I didn’t say anything & didn’t show it, which is the best that I can do. My cousin had to go back to school today & had homework when she got home, so I only just really talked to her as I was writing this. We hugged & she seemed so sad that I was leaving, sadder than I had thought. I told her that I’d come back as soon as I can. She said it would be weird when I was gone. I agreed. My aunt’s couch is like my bed now & I accidentally called this place home. All of this being said, I’m ready to move on & to let go, to get back to my life. I say this, but I’m starting to tear up as I write this. I can be sad & okay at the same time.

This is going to be the last time I sleep on this couch for a long time. I wonder if the pillow will still be stained from my hair dye. I’ll be a different person when I come back here. It’s my only comfort.

On my aunt's couch, typing away on my computer & I hear these dogs, but they don't sound like they're barking or howling; They sound like they're screaming. Maybe they're not dogs. We're surrounded by forest. My uncle just walked in, he said they're coyotes. What an awful sound they make.

Tomorrow is my last day here, before I leave on the third & fly back home. I'm a bit sad, but finally okay with it. I think that this trip feels like a weekend that got stretched out into a several weeks- fun & lazy most of the time, but I'm finally ready to stop being idle.

It’s New Year’s & I’m on my aunt’s couch & I smell like a fire, sleepy. The smell of smoke always seems sleepy to me, & this is the latest that I’ve stayed up in a few weeks. We lit a fire tonight for the New Year. It was nice to talk, to watch the flames. Whenever I see a fire like the one from tonight, I think to myself that once we relied on fire for warmth, for food & now we just light a fire if we want something fun to do. It’s strange. I’ve been thinking a lot about humanity in its totality lately, the fact that we were once hunter-gatherers, the fact that was life for the majority of human history. I don’t know why.

Feeling too tired to write at the moment. Spent hours in the car, played Style Savvy: Trendsetters; Went to an aquarium; Aunt & uncle surprised me with this experience where you get to stick your hand in a tank & pet moon jellies, (Vashti loves jellyfish & pretends to be a jellyfish as she falls asleep at night); Spent some time in the aquarium; Saw sea lions, maybe a hundred or so, not at the aquarium- at a dock in the beach town, all of them piled up on one another & barking a few feet below us; Saw the ocean; Hours in the car again, listened to Sufjan Stevens; Back to the house & we had our fire.

Still thinking about the new year. I think my New Year’s Day will really begin when my trip ends, when I go back home this Wednesday. It’s hard to explain, but it makes me happy to say that, like I’m not constrained by time, that I can create meaningful change at any time. I feel sleepy & hopeful.

It’s New Year’s Eve now. I think New Year’s Eve & Day are one of my favorite holidays, at least the ones that I’ve anticipated the most. We’re going to the beach tomorrow, well in the morning. I can’t think of a more fitting & more ceremonious way to spend the end of the year than a visit with the ocean. I hope to see sea lions, like the song “The only reason why I continue at all / Faith in reason, I wasted my life playing dumb / Signs and wonders, sea lion caves in the dark / Blind faith, God's grace, nothing else left to impart.”

I think I feel ready to leave Oregon now. It’s not as though I’m not enjoying myself; I very much am. I just think that I’ve gotten all that I can from this trip, that I’ve understood as much as there is to understand here. I feel ready to move on. As each day of my trip has passed, I’ve felt more & more sad about it, until I realized that there was no reason to mourn something that hasn’t come to pass yet. Why should I already be missing it? It is here; I am here. I have everything. There’s nothing to lament. Now I feel okay, able to let go, though I probably won’t see my family here for at least a year, probably a year and a half. When I realize that, it’s difficult to not feel sad, but then I tell myself that right now, they’re right here. I can reach out and touch them. Now’s not the time to feel sad. I also think of how different I will be when we see each other again. I’ll have graduated. I’ll have a job. I will probably be living alone for the first time. I think about this & instead of feeling sad, I look forward to my future. I’m so close to getting out.

I spent the day lazily again. Toward the beginning of this trip, I was worried that I wasn’t doing enough, that I wasn’t enjoying myself enough, which is silly, because that thought itself kept me from enjoying myself completely, uninhibitedly. Maybe that should be one of my resolutions, to be more uninhibited. I finally learned to relax around Christmas Eve or so, to take things less seriously, or rather to take my made up hypotheticals less seriously. I don’t know if I’m a self conscious person, but I do tend to scrutinize how I’m feeling, as if there’s a right way & a wrong way to feel… Anyways, I spent most of the day playing my game, Style Savvy: Trendsetters. I love it so much. It can be difficult for me to immerse myself in something I enjoy, to only think about it, nothing else, to just play, but I can do that with this game. I’m so thankful that I found it. Thankful to who? I’m not sure.

My writing seems terrible lately, like drivel, so I haven’t been writing very much. That & I’m enjoying my trip. That being said, I’d like to write down my resolutions tomorrow. I’ve already drafted them, but I’m really serious about them, so I’m giving them a lot of thought.

Everything that I’m writing is so dumb right now. I’m going to bed (couch), because of our beach trip tomorrow. Well this is normally the time I’ve been going to bed here actually, & waking up at 9:00 AM each day, before my alarm. I wonder if I’ll be able to keep this up when I get home? It feels really good to wake up & not feel myself being dragged back into sleep each morning. Time to lay my blue hair down & go to sleep.

I would say that I had a fun day, but I also wouldn’t be able to say that I’m well right now. I feel wrong, disgusting somehow, like I need to carve my way out of my body. My hair is parted strangely from when we washed the dye out of my hair over the kitchen sink yesterday & it’s stuck in place. My hands have this blue tint from the dye & they look as though they belong to a dead girl, a corpse. My face has pimples on it, actual pimples & my chest is covered in scratches that I gave myself in my sleep.

This morning when I woke up to get ready to leave for Seattle, I had this awful headache. I don’t know how to describe it. I could feel my heartbeat in my head & it hurt so badly. I don’t have any words to describe it beyond “painful.” I took medicine for it, but felt sick to my stomach again, throwing up nothing but gasps. Everything seemed more intense than it normally is… I wore sunglasses, but somehow things still seemed so bright. The smell of everyone’s gas station breakfast in the car made me feel sick, so I shut my eyes beneath my sunglasses & wore my headphones & listened to the same song on a loop for a while. I don’t know how long, but I spent the first part of our trip listening to my song for a few seconds at a time before it was punctuated by sleep again. I think that I spent an hour or so like that. I don’t know. When I woke up, really woke up & stayed awake, my stomach felt better. I got a coffee at this convenience store that we stopped at to see if maybe I had some sort of caffeine headache, but it was to no avail. My head didn’t hurt anywhere near as badly as it did in the morning, but it still hurt. It made me feel strange, bad. My mom called & I could barely talk to her on the phone. I felt so bad & it seemed like so much effort to form words, let alone say them out loud. Our conversation was a couple of minutes of uh-huh’s & terse responses from me, all while she was telling me about her childhood in Washington. I felt bad, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain why I couldn’t talk. I’ll try to call her tomorrow.

We made a few stops before Seattle. We went to a place called Value Village, a thrift store, just like the one I visit at home, only at home it is not called Value Village. I found some nice clothes, but not many, because the clothes were so expensive in Washington. $8 for a shirt is so much, but their men’s section had so many nice shirts, so I picked out a couple; One was a turtleneck that I quite like. I also found a woman’s jacket that I don’t know how to describe, but it looks exactly like one my mom has that I have been so tempted to nab from her. I also got an off white skirt. I don’t know; it matches the turtleneck quite well. I can wear it while teaching. I bought a pair of mittens too, though at home right now it’s about 60-70 degrees. Maybe I’ll be able to wear them come February… I had a coupon, so I ended up spending about $25, which is a lot, but oh well.

My real purchase came later, when we stopped at Half Price Books. We have them all around at home, so I wasn’t particularly eager to buy anything the way my family was, because apparently they haven’t found any in Oregon yet, but I ended up spending almost fifty dollars on video games. I found Petz Dogz 2 & Petz Horseshoe Ranch in their cases. Then I noticed they had some games behind glass, & what did I find..? I found Style Savvy: Trendsetters for twenty dollars! I’ve wanted that game since even before I got my 3DS for Chritsmas. & I found Imagine Rock Star & a couple of small carry cases for my game cartridges. (I’ve been keeping them in my wallet). There were also a bunch of Playboys & I wanted to look through them to see if they had the issue where Margaret Atwood was a guest writer, but the magazines were all in these magazine sized plastic baggies, so oh well. Tant pis, as they say in French. I suppose I wouldn’t really want to buy some Playboys while on a family road trip, but I don’t know, Margaret Atwood is pretty tempting.

After that, we stopped at Daiso, which is also a store I have down at home, so I didn’t really buy anything. I got a small, portable dish set with a fork, spoon & chopsticks that reads “It will always be happy if keep on smiling.” I got E a Miffy air freshener, as a thank you for driving me around all the time & a Miffy keychain for her & myself. Oh! & at the thrift store, I found a lonesome tarot deck. Its box read “Parade,” but they’re just regular Rider-Waite cards. My cousin was speaking of learning to read tarot, so I think I’ll gift them to her. We were talking about getting her a Rider-Waite deck anyways. Otherwise, I’ll just take them home with me, care for them.

After this last stop, we drove into Seattle. Its skyline was somewhat menacing as we drove through, like the buildings were hanging over you. It was a pretty place, but it made me uneasy somehow. By the time we’d made it, night had fallen. I think it was 6:00 PM or so. We went to this place called Pike Place, a market attached to these underground shops, like an underground mall. It was huge, like the rest of the city. That place is a city of cars. The streets were filled with cars & people, weaving past one another. I got a few postcards at Pike Place, to send away, with maybe one or two to keep for myself. They’re sweet cards, illustrated. Maybe I’ll upload some photos before I send them out. We got food, but I don’t know the word for it. It was this bread filled with salmon paste, in the shape of a fish. It was good, & as we ate, a drunk woman would not stop speaking to us. Well, she stopped to recite a Bible verse for a minute or two without stopping for breath. We sat outside of a hostel. I didn’t know they had hostels in the United States, but my uncle said there was one in San Francisco too, that maybe it was a West Coast thing.

After our time in Seattle, we made the long drive back to the house. I began to feel sick again, but it had passed. I wanted so badly to read my book, but I don’t have a book light. I couldn’t read it on the way there, because my mind was so out of sorts, as was my stomach. Instead I slept for a bit, then listened to Sufjan Stevens. Listening made me think that I should take a road trip soon, the summer after next.

When we got to the house, I meant to test all of my games, but ended up playing Style Savvy for a while. It’s so much fun. My mood was ripped from me when I went to change into something I could sleep in & I saw myself in the mirror. Despite this, I had a fun day today. I can feel bad & happy at the same time. Right now though, most of all, I just feel tired. I’m going to go to sleep. Tomorrow & the day after, I will think more about my New Year's Resolutions. I'm serious about change this time; I really am.

Yesterday we went to the Goodwill bins again & then the Portland Zoo at night. I snuck a Vietnamese iced coffee in, surprisingly good. Well, I stuck it in my cousin’s coat pocket, because I was wearing my clown’s onesie & McDonald’s sweatshirt. We went at night because the entire zoo was covered in Christmas lights. The display was somehow even better than the fantasy version I’d made up in my head. Many of them were in the shapes of animals. I liked the bird ones, especially the lights in the shape of a crane & a swallow. Swallows are my favorite bird, after pigeons. Christmas lights are beautiful & swallows are beautiful, so you can only imagine how beautiful the lights were. I kept repeating that as we walked through the zoo, without thinking, past the point of redundancy: beautiful. I always have more difficulty finding the words to describe good things, good feelings, but somehow I can always find the words to expound upon the minutiae of any facet of misery I feel. I think that I think less when I'm happy, that's why.

We got to see the seals, too. I really wanted to see the penguins, but the penguins had already been put away, as had the rest of the animals. Well, I wanted to see the penguins before I’d known they had seals. Then I was so enamored that all I thought about were the seals. They were so cute that I actually began to tear up as I was looking at them. I’m more easily overcome by emotion lately.

The soles of both of my hiking shoes have begun to tear off & they are the only pair I brought with me. As we walked through the lights, my shoes were soaked down to my socks which were soaked down to my feet. They were still damp- wet- when I checked this morning.

I would have written about last night in better detail, but I became really sick after the zoo trip, maybe during the zoo trip. As we walked around, I felt a bit lightheaded & by the time we got to the car, I felt nauseous & it didn’t pass. When we got to the house, I began to dry heave. I must have dry heaved thirty or forty times throughout the night, to the point my stomach ached from it. The thing that actually worried me was that my lightheadedness would not go away, even laying down. It was hard to think, and even laying down, I felt as though I was going to pass out. I’ve had fainting spells before & braced myself for it each time I went to kneel over the toilet. I took my phone with me & left the door unlocked, just in case, but nothing came of it. Their toilet bowl is black, so I could see my reflection in it so clearly & it disgusted me. I looked so sick, so pathetic. I didn’t want to look at myself but had to.

I slept in ten, twenty minute spells sporadically & every time I’d woken up, I’d hoped that hours would have passed & that I’d feel well again, but my respite didn’t come. The entire night was spent in montony, trapped in my body. I couldn't think about anything at all. My mind was solely focused on my physical discomfort, suffering at times, and desperation for things to get better. When I could think, I was consumed with worry. It made me wish I was a child again & someone could worry about sick Vashti on her behalf, but there was no one else on that couch with me & no one else who could share my sickness.

I finally fell asleep at 3:00 AM or so, woke up at 6:30, & then coaxed myself back to sleep until 9:30. I don’t feel sick anymore, but I feel really out of it still, mentally. I had a headache earlier, on the left side of my head. I think I just feel groggy from lack of sleep. While waiting for dinner, I managed to fall asleep on the couch while a movie was playing. Oh, I watched another movie today, this morning after reading some more of Crime & Punishment, The Count of Monte Cristo (2002). I thought it was good. Dyed my hair too, my aunt did. It was supposed to be purple, but instead it’s a sapphire, but it’s okay. I wish I could write more, but I don’t feel like myself right now.

Things I did in order:

1. listened to the rain on the roof
2. Opened Christmas presents
3. Scalded the fuck out of my tongue on microwave hot cocoa. (Covered in bumps & if my teeth touch it, it still hurts.)
4. ate lamb for Christmas dinner
5. had a bad dream
6. watched five movies in one day
7. listening to the rain again

Some things I got for Christmas:

• 3DS
• Animal Crossing: New Leaf, Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer, Harvest Moon: A Tale of Two Towns
• Sonny Angels
• Kinokuniya gift card
• Books
• Lilikoi Hi-Chew

Sonny Angels I got for Christmas (in order of most favorite to less favorite but still so cute):

1. Melon
2. Tiger
3. Pudding
4. Strawberry Shortcake & Grape
5. Panda

Movies I watched today in order:

1. My Neighbor Totoro (1988)
2. Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989)
3. The Secret World of Arrietty (2010)
4. Fargo (1996)
5. Misery (1990)

It’s Christmas now, though really it’s still Christmas Eve. I stayed inside all day. I haven’t done that in months, years. Spent the day lounging & eating sweets, chocolates, cookies. Spent the day unselfconsciously, without examination. I never do that. I did nothing important beyond spending the day in comfort. Happy I’m not at home.

Went to the coast with my grandpa today & passed a church named God's Lighthouse... What a good name. God could be a lighthouse. Even with lighthouses, ships still meet disaster. Went to this spot that was covered in driftwood, just covered in it, but no trash somehow. I was less interested in the driftwood & more interested in the water, staring at the waves, listening. We spent the day out, but I don't have much to say about it. I spent most of the day looking at trees & water & the sky. As we drove back home, all of the lights were skewed, like smeared lines. Maybe it was because of the fog, (there is so much fog here), or maybe because I wasn't wearing my glasses.

After it got dark, there was this giant halo that appeared around the moon. I've never seen anything like it. If it were an angel's halo, then the angel would have to be a giant. Saw Jupiter too. So many natural wonders.

Had dinner last night, steak, very tender, got to the house at 10:30 PM or so, in bed (the couch) by 10:45 PM. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep with everyone scurrying around the house after dinner, but I did, even slept through them adding logs to the fire. I just felt my weight on the couch, sinking, only thought about that, felt that, & fell asleep. (I seem to mix up thinking & feeling a lot.)

I woke up at 3:00 AM or so, for no reason. I couldn’t move for a bit, because my leg was numb from the knee down, couldn’t even move my toes, or if I did, I couldn’t feel it. I don’t know if I’d mentioned this, but there was supposed to be a meteor shower last night, from 3:00 AM till dawn. I decided to just sleep through it because it was unlikely I’d be able to see anything, but maybe another part of me, a bigger part of me than the part that makes decisions, really wanted to make a wish on a shooting star & so I woke up. I was right the first time, only clouds, no night sky visible. I looked out the window & saw nothing but the sky, until I realized there were no stars & what I was seeing was clouds, a cloud, a giant one. I couldn’t sleep for an hour or so afterwards & I slept in until my alarm again.

I woke up to find that everyone was already in the living room, only a few feet away from me, making noise, but I’d managed to sleep through it. Felt groggy, mind was heavy. Thought about going back to sleep, but didn’t bother. Aunt made breakfast: French toast, eggs, & bacon. I don’t like French toast- texture- so I just had eggs & bacon & her scrambled eggs were so good that I didn’t bother adding anything to it. Maybe it’s because she raises her own chickens. Still felt groggy & the opposite of out of it- in it- too far in it when I didn’t want to be. My cousin sat on the couch next to me with her breakfast & the dogs, three separate ones, were clamoring around her, around us, around my ankles, begging for food. She fed one of them bacon that had climbed up the couch with us, disgusting. Noise & movement was bothering me, so I went outside only to find their two dozen birds or so were even louder. Went back inside, aunt & uncle were asking my cousin about her robotics practice that she’s at right now, telling her she needed to make a plan. They just kept talking about it & I wanted it to be quiet or wanted to be by myself somewhere, but there’s no quiet or by myself in this house. Wanted to lay back down & cover my eyes & ears, but there was no space to lay down, dogs everywhere, cousin on the couch… They told her to clean her room for the dozenth time since I got here, telling her she won’t be able to have her Christmas present unless she cleans it. Told her she needed to do the dishes. They just kept talking to her about chores & all of these inane robotics things & I just wanted everyone to be quiet. Then my grandpa walked out into the living room & asked if I wanted to go to Walmart with him & yes, yes I very much did. I didn’t even change out of the clothes I slept in, just left with him.

Grandpa commented something along the lines of how much talking they were doing with my cousin, so I guess it wasn’t just me. It sounded like an interrogation in there, only my cousin never gets punished, so it was a no stakes interrogation, just speaking in circles & spirals & left & right & up & down & any other direction that could hold words. My sister called & we talked on the phone with my sister in the car. My grandpa said he was surprised she & I could hold a conversation since I hate her so much; I told him it was only because he was in the car. He told her I got a 4.0 this last semester & she said it was nothing. Got tired of talking to her very quickly. If it were just the two of us, I would’ve ended the call a minute or so in. She finally quit talking to us after fifteen minutes or so. We haven’t spoken that long in months. I didn’t like it. Car ride with my grandpa was good. We can go a few minutes without talking & just sit in silence.

Walmart was just Walmart. The dollar store was just the dollar store, but it was enjoyable because I was with my grandpa. We left & I saw a glimpse of a rainbow. I started shouting that there was a rainbow, a good omen, & it was impossibly close. I felt so happy, ecstatic. A rainbow with no rain in sight. Kept driving & his dog started whining & we pulled over into this field, which his dog likes to run around in. Grandpa calls it [Dog Name]’s Field. In [Dog Name]’s Field, we saw the rainbow again, both ends of it, but not the arc. They must’ve been miles & miles apart. Somehow, I could see them better while I was wearing my sunglasses. The field was muddy & the weather was a bit cold, but it felt good. Just stared at the rainbow(s) while [Dog Name] sprinted around. Just standing in that field was the happiest I’ve felt in a long time. A rainbow the day after the winter solstice must be a good sign. A rainbow to welcome the lengthening of days. Things are going to get better for me. A meteor shower & then a rainbow.

Got back in the car after a while & took the backroads back up to my grandpa’s mountain home. Pulled over & looked at ducks in a pond with binoculars. Kept driving up. Saw a rainbow again, another rainbow, had to be because it was so far away from the first. Two rainbows in a single day, single hour. No words to describe how I felt other than shining, ecstatic, overflowing. Couldn’t stop smiling & couldn’t think of another word to talk about the rainbow with my grandpa other than “beautiful.” I wonder how many times I said “beautiful” today, in how many inflections? Dozens, at least. As we drove, I caught a glimpse of myself in the passenger mirror & I was smiling without thinking about it. When was the last time that happened? I never do that, but there I was, smiling, a real smile, nothing melancholic or pained or forced about it, just an outward expression of joy intended for nobody. No one told me to do that. It was my smile. Things are getting better, things are beautiful, the days are longer. I can tell. I smiled today & meant it. I didn’t do it as a pose. It was genuine. It wasn’t a performance.

Pulled over again, stopped at a cemetery. I stood against the fence, but didn’t cross the threshold. I don’t know why. I’ve never been in a cemetery before. It’s a small cemetery on the mountain, less than two dozen graves that I could see. Was going to ask my grandpa if he was going to be buried there when he died, but thought against it. The graves were small & close together. There was a bush near the fence, with a stone that read “Mother.” Once that was someone’s mother & now she was a bush & a rock without a name. If her body was underneath, it was long gone. Kept thinking about how there were boxes with corpses under the dirt a foot or two away & it seemed so absurd that one day you could be breathing & have as many thoughts & feelings & experiences & memories as me & the next day you could die & they’d plant a shrub over you & put a rock that doesn’t even say your name, just “Mother” & that was all that was left of you, after a while. Strange.

Could’ve stared at the headstones for a while, but we stopped to go on a hike. It’s colder up on the mountain, a bit uncomfortable, but not enough for you to mind it. Corduroy pants & a sweatshirt & hiking shoes & I was cold. Tried looking for mushrooms & found a lot, an entire gallon bag of chanterelles, more than we did the other day. I had so much fun crawling around & digging in the dirt that I didn’t even notice my hands were cold & red & my fingers were numb. We saw these trees that were all lined up, planted by a logging company in the 90s. I only know it was the 90s because there was a sign saying so. They were in perfect rows & it reminded me of a graveyard.

We went home & I took a bath. My hair is still wet. I’m so happy. A meteor shower, a blue sky, & two rainbows. Exaltation. Smiling without meaning to. Ten of Cups. Something in my chest feels like a bird in flight, the most natural thing in the world.

Tired today, tired morning. This was the first day since flying up here that I managed to sleep in until my alarm. Not sure why, because I went to bed early last night. I ate some of my aunt’s cookies for breakfast, the ones we made together.

I laid in bed, by which I mean their couch, for an hour or so after getting up. Felt indulgent & sleepy & a bit lazy. Was lost in thought, but don’t remember what about. My mom called & she talked about how she & my little brother were spending the day together. After being awake for an hour or two, we went grocery shopping, because my aunt is making lamb for Christmas dinner. My aunt & uncle said I could stay at the house, but I don’t like staying at the house all day; It isn’t good for me, neither are these short days & long nights. It’s the longest night of the year tonight. After that, it all gets easier. There’s a meteor shower tonight too, a good send off for the cruelest night of the year. It feels fitting. I’ll make a wish tonight as I lie down, but what should I wish for? Happiness is a bit too simple, isn’t it? I don’t want to be happy with things, I want them to be different.

Our grocery run was not fun, but not boring. We drove to Costco & as we made our descent from their mountain home, everything was still & quiet & foggy, even when we made it to town. It was like a horror game. I don’t mind going to Costco, because it is so different from our grocery store at home. It’s giant & bright & is so big that there’s not a produce aisle; There’s a refrigerated produce room instead. It’s full of people who give you free samples of chocolate too, good chocolate, dark chocolate. There’s this giant rotisserie chicken spit in the back, just four whole chickens per blade spinning, roasting, in this giant machine. There’s a glass pane between you & the chicken, so I just stand & watch while my family grocery shops. Today there was a man in a white butcher’s suit & he was taking the chicken off of their blades & packaging it. There was no blood on his suit, not a single stain. I don’t know why I like looking at the chicken so much. I think it’s because it’s so ridiculous to me, absurd. There was a time when people hadn't even invented farming yet, when we were hunter-gatherers. That was how most of human existence was spent. Now we can go to giant, bright white stores & there are dozens of chickens being roasted & spun around before your eyes. It’s just so weird. Going to Costco makes me think of the entirety of human history for some reason, where we were & where we are now.

I think I’m someone who can be considered easily impressed, because I ate three free pieces of chocolate, watched chicken spin around, & got a Frappuccino & would say that I had a good day. That phone call from mom, the one about my little brother, she said she took him grocery shopping & to Starbucks so he could get a drink & we ended up getting the same one. Parallel lives. Mundane but happy days.

It's already getting dark. We're getting dinner tonight. One of those places where the chef makes the food in front of you, like in Everything Everywhere All at Once with Raccacoonie. I think it's called Benihana or something. I'm happy because my grandpa is coming with us. Normally he stays home when we go out. I wonder if I should wear a dress?

I saw the ocean today & cried. I don't have the words to describe how I felt.

I finally understand Orpheus & Eurydice. No time felt right to stop looking at the water, & as I resolved to leave, I kept turning back to get one last look, over and over again.

I kind of put off writing this entry, because lately my words have felt inadequate to me, like I’m not writing as well as usual. I don’t know how to describe this feeling beyond a sense of insecurity that pervades everything, a sense of doing something wrong, of not doing it well (enough). I continue to write though, because I would rather be someone who writes all the time than someone who writes only good things.

Because everything I write is wrong, I’ll just write about my day anyways, in plain, uninteresting language, like a report, a report to my future self. I spent the day, the most important parts of my day, with my grandpa. My grandpa is pretty reticent, pretty reserved, & doesn’t normally go on family outings with us. Whenever we spend time together, it’s just the two of us. I don’t mind it. In fact, I understand it & it makes our time together feel more important, purposeful.

We dropped my cousin off somewhere & drove to Costco. We talked in the car & it felt like talking to E, like I wasn’t overthinking things, just speaking. It felt very un-self-conscious, the same way it felt when we went out mushroom hunting yesterday, like I was just existing without introspection for a bit, the way a child does, without asking why. Sometimes asking why is good, but sometimes you don’t want to ask yourself why you’re alive all the time, gets a bit exhausting when you realize there’s no real answer, only whatever you choose to be your answer.

Every drive here is a long one, because my family lives in the country, up on a mountain. I like car rides though, especially here, with all of the mist & the trees & the grass that’s green- everything’s green. Especially here, when I’m talking to my grandpa.

We bought salmon to smoke from Costco since my grandpa’s dog ate our tuna yesterday. I think my grandpa likes cooking for me. I think he’s a good cook. He made me breakfast two days in a row & he always makes me smoked fish. After we bought the fish & a rotisserie chicken, we left. My grandpa asked me what I wanted to do & I didn’t know what I wanted to do beyond sit in the car with him some more. We ended up going to that Asian grocery store that we went to the other day. My grandpa didn’t go with us the first time, but he had a lot of fun this time, just looking at everything they have, especially the seafood section for some reason. It was cute. I picked him out a melon Ramune, because I was trying to describe melon soda to him earlier. We each also got some dried seaweed to eat. We went to the bookstore that was attached, but didn’t get anything. I explained to him what a blind box was.

My day was fun. It was simple, but fun. I wish I could live today over again, one more time, or that I could remember our conversations word for word, my grandpa's jokes & stories.

I'm going to sleep now. We're going to the beach tomorrow morning. Grandpa isn't coming with us, but he told me he wants to take me to this other beach to look for driftwood, by some nature park. I'm excited.

I feel hot, my hands feel hot. They feel like your mouth on the inside of a scarf. It’s hot in here. Too much fire in the wood-stove, stuffy. Outside is cold & crisp, like a refrigerated knife. The sky is soft & dull & covered & no stars are visible to me behind the clouds, or rather, cloud- one large one, singular, like a blanket or like grass. My words are dull too, but in the bad way. The sky is dull, but in a neutral way. I don’t feel as though I have the authority to tell the sky my preferences, though sometimes I wish for rain. It’s hot in here. If I weren’t sleeping on a couch in the living room, I’d strip down to some boxers, flat on my back, arms out. I’ll sleep without a blanket tonight.

I feel as though I haven’t recorded enough of my trip so far, of its happenings. When I am enjoying myself, I normally neglect to write about it or take photos, which in a way is a good thing, but I’d still like mementos, you know? Anyways, I’m just going to try to record any small events or incidents or happenings that I haven’t yet written about in this entry. They’re not in chronological order, because my grasp of time is tenuous & atrophied.

My grandfather & I wanted to smoke some fish, so he took all of the time to make this marinade & soak the fish in it for hours, we patted the fish dry, set them on a rack to sit for a bit, & then when we finally got the smoker ready, we found our fish to be mostly gone! Well, we didn’t actually find the fish anywhere, which was the problem. We couldn’t find them because they were in my grandfather’s dog’s stomach. That dog ate ten of our fifteen pieces, two thirds. It was too funny for me to feel upset. Then when we smoked & ate the few pieces of fish that were left, my grandfather realized he got the marinade wrong & it was too salty. He put two cups & not two quarts of water into the marinade. We overcooked the fish too, so it ended up being comparable to beef jerky.

I learned my grandfather really likes dried seaweed, like me, & that my aunt hates it.

My aunt’s chihuahua, well one of them, the only one young enough to not stumble anywhere, follows me around & sits on my lap. She has these two other elderly & decrepit chihuahuas: the one that had the seizure & this blind one. The blind one stumbles around the house until it finds somewhere soft to lay. I set up blankets for it under a table near the couch I’m sleeping on. The other dog, the one who had the seizure, sleeps in front of the wood-stove. They both make me sad to look at & I don’t like looking into the blind one’s eyes. I feel bad for them, even though they’re as comfortable as they possibly can be. These dogs have been around since my childhood, so to watch them age more & more with each visit is a visual depiction of my life, my years passing.

My aunt has a lamb shaped tin, so we're going to try to make a lamb cake. We're going to have lamb for Christmas dinner, & then shepherd's pie with the leftovers.

My uncle says when the sky clears I'll be able to see the Dippers & Orion's Belt.

The wood-stove has this pinwheel attached to it that spins & spins & spins as long as the flames are strong enough. Right now it's spinning so fast that I can't see its individual blades. It's just a blur.

I had a bloody nose today. I'd suspected one was going to happen for a few days now, because I could smell the blood & my nose was so dry. It was hard to clean all of my blood out of the sink, because I couldn't find paper towels. I ended up using mostly water that I splashed around inside the sink & a bit of toilet paper. I could never kill someone, because I know I'd miss some blood. It's impossible to clean.

My mom texted & my brother's science fair project is going to be submitted to another competition, one in the big city near home, the city I take the train to sometimes, where my sister goes to school. I'm happy for him. He already got third place out of his whole school.

It started raining for a few moments. The sound of rain on the roof is so different here, I guess because this house is so old. I don't have the langauge to describe it, other than that it was delicate & beautiful. I stepped outside to feel it. It's stopped now & I can hear the crackle of the wood-stove, my cousin's footsteps from above, & my grandfather's T.V, too low for me to discern any words. There are so many noises here, but they aren't overwhelming, just sounds of life that I feel a part of. Normally noises feel like something external, separate, things that are invading & are taking over. These ones are welcome; They make me feel welcome. I hope it rains again. I expected the rain here to be torrential, but it's so gentle.

I just went apple picking & mushroom hunting with my grandfather. We went to an abandoned house down the mountain that had apple trees. We could only reach the red apples. Most of the low-hanging ones were already gone; Picked by people & eaten by deer. I wonder if deer would like sugar cubes the way horses do? Most of the apples were scarred & gashed. It made me think of The Metamorphosis, the apples’ rot. I tried to pick the nicest ones possible, the ones unscathed by time & safe from any decay, but it turns out we picked them to feed deer, so I could’ve been a bit more loose & a bit less contemplative with my apple picking & inspecting. The apple tree was giant. Most of its leaves were gone & rotting beneath my feet. When you grabbed one apple, one or two others fell down to your feet. There was a lot of space around the trunk, enough to walk around, & branches & leaves grew around it, as if it was a fort, a child’s fort; The innocent kind.

The other trees were tall, thin, & moss covered. From far away, they looked like bamboo stalks, because the trunks were so green with moss. We drove a short bit to go hunt for mushrooms, chanterelles. My grandfather says morels are better, but those are spring mushrooms. As we walked into the woods, there was a pile of trash with a deer’s hoof sticking out. It made me think of Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead. My grandfather saw it & said “awful things they do to the deer.” I didn’t ask who they were or what the awful things were. I wanted to examine the hoof more closely, but I don’t think my grandfather did. As we continued into the woods, I realized these were real woods, the type that used to cover the earth, the type that you can get lost in, the type where all around you all you can see are more trees. The trees are impossibly tall around here, & thin, & still green. You can never see the blue of the sky & it makes it seem later than it is. The woods seemed darker too. As we continued into the woods, my grandfather told me about this man who used to live around here, went crazy one day & they found him naked in the woods, attacked a hunter with a rock, bashed his head. My grandfather said he just went crazy one day… He had a strange name too. I won’t say what it is, but he was named after a female animal.

Despite the fact that chanterelles are bright orange, as if they’re shining, they’re actually hard to spot. The woods are impossibly big & the chanterelles small. I kept having to remind myself to pay attention, to look for the mushrooms, because I was so lost in thought. I was already missing mushroom hunting with my grandfather before it had even ended. We ended up with about half of a gallon bag of mushrooms. We used this mushroom knife, a pocket knife, to cut their stalks. The knife had a brush attached, as if it were made for fossil hunting.

I spent the day happy so far. I didn’t even notice time’s march forward until I looked at the rotting apples. I didn’t stop to think about things. I just existed like all the other animals.

I spent the day in my pajamas and in thought. I didn’t do anything of note; Today was like being at home, only somewhere else. I feel as comfortable here as I do at home, by which I mean staying as a guest somewhere & living at home with my family feel the same way- constantly uncomfortable, even if it’s only slightly at times. I need to remind myself over & over that I’m not a nuisance, that they invited me to stay here, that they want me here.

I feel moody & maybe even melancholic. I don’t know why. Maybe I think I should be enjoying myself more. A lot of my troubles come from comparing how things are & how I think they should be, or rather how things are & how I think I should feel about them. Negative feelings are fine, the problem is when I experience them & tell myself that I should be feeling something else. There is no should. That’s something I made up. There’s only how things actually are, & right now, things are actually a bit sad for me & I don’t know why. Maybe I expected this trip to be transformative, or that it would solve some of my problems. It’s a nice break, but at the end of the day, I’m still Vashti. I go to sleep on this couch instead of my bed, but I’m still me, maybe a happier one, but still me. Maybe some of this sadness, this dissatisfaction rather, is coming from the fact that I expected everything to change with this trip when in reality it hasn’t. Or: I think I should feel different, but that’s not how things actually are.

It’s strange to write this, because I feel as though this feeling is contradictory to another, which is that I’m so grateful to be here. I guess the two aren’t mutually exclusive: I can feel sad and grateful. Sad isn’t the right word necessarily. I just feel a bit wrong somehow. Maybe it’s the early sunset. Since I'm on a trip, I'm more cognizant of the passing of days. I feel uncertain about my future.

My family left a while ago to go back to that estate sale from yesterday. I didn't want to go, so I'm staying here. There's so much good food in this house to choose from. I'm not sure what to eat. I had some smoked tuna & salmon for breakfast. I had a dream that my family was planning to kill & eat me last night.

I am sitting in my aunt’s living room & am somewhat tired. It gets dark so early here & it feels a lot later than it is. It starts getting dark at about 4:30 PM or so & the sun seems to hang too low in the sky, like it’s always there, like it’s watching. You can see it, but it is always covered because the sky is overcast, as if it’s hiding. It’s strange to me. I’ve always thought that maybe I’d really like to live up here, but I don’t think that I’d be able to handle these winters. Though, if I did live here, I think I’d find a way to endure regardless. The 21st is the winter solstice, is the shortest day of the year & marks when the days get longer again. I feel like I’m holding my breath for it, like things will get easier & lighter when it comes. My aunt feels the same way. We’re going to celebrate it together. I’m going to say a prayer when the day comes, a new year’s prayer to keep me until the next winter solstice.

I spent the day rather sleepy, in a bit of a daze… I woke up tired but ate good food: leftover chicken & dumplings & then some of an omelet made by my grandfather. I think the food tasted really good because my family made it, or maybe because I was eating it in their home. I tried not to fall asleep after breakfast & read some more of Crime & Punishment. Then I went outside & watched my grandfather clean his chainsaw a bit & then we talked about birds & mushroom hunting & fish. He wants to see Killers of the Flower Moon, my whole family does, but my grandfather doesn’t really go out on family outings, so I’m happy that we’re all going to see it together, later, I don’t know when. It’ll be fun to rewatch it & I would much rather rewatch that than The Boy & the Heron like we had originally planned. I’m excited to see what their local theatre looks like too, how it’s different from the one by my house. Everything is different in tiny but perceptible ways. I think the reason I want to travel so much after I graduate is that I want to live my life in overlapping states of novelty, where everything seems new & special & has not fallen into the realm of the routine.

After talking with my grandpa for a while, the rest of my family- my aunt, uncle, & cousin- got dressed (I’d already bathed & changed) so we could go out for the day. They wanted to go to this estate sale; I don’t like estate sales very much. I like buying clothes & normally estate sales consist of dead people's home furnishings. Today we were in the house of a dead cigar smoker who had a wife obsessed with bird houses. There were so many bird houses, dozens of them, so many that they filled up boxes & boxes. I got a few greeting cards that the dead couple never got to send, one that was sent to them which I neglected to check whether or not it was empty before grabbing it, two small bags of beads, & a beaded necklace I want to cut up & take the beads off of. I spent $3. My family found some expensive piece of machinery & spent $1400. I don’t know what it does or what it is called, I think it is for woodworking, but it’s giant. It’s so giant that they’re going back to get the rest of it tomorrow. I think I’m going to sit that trip out & stay here instead. It was pretty boring & I spent quite a bit of that time reading my book.

After that, we went to a Kinokuniya that was attached to a grocery store. The Kinokuniya had a sign up at checkout saying they had sold out of Sonny Angels & someone overheard me lamenting the fact outloud to no one in particular in typical Vashti fashion & walked me over to a section in the grocery store that was selling Sonny Angels. They had three series, and I didn’t have any Sonny Angels from any of the three series. My aunt got me two of each for Christmas. As we left the grocery store, she said we have to be careful putting this grocery bag in the bed of the truck, because they have, “sixty dollars worth of naked babies for Vashti.” That’s what she calls them, either “Something Angels” or “Your Naked Babies.” I bought myself some snacks when I was there, all usual things that I get from the H-Mart at home: dried seaweed, rice crackers, Jagarico, & Ramune. I also got some konpeito, which I’ve never tried before. I kept my snack run under twenty dollars, minus two charms & a sticker sheet that I bought.

After going to the grocery store, we got dinner at this food truck place. I got chicken tikka masala & garlic naan- delicious. We came back home & I read Crime & Punishment for a while & talked with my aunt. The book is so good that I don't want to finish it. I feel good.

I stopped writing earlier to step outside & look at the sky, to stargaze. There are far more stars here than there are at home, or rather, they aren’t as hidden from me here. The sky was covered in stars & there were no constellations that I could identify, because there are never any constellations for me, at least until tonight. I wonder if Perseus was up there? It’s one of my dreams to see Perseus & Pegasus up there, like the song, “Signs and wonders: Perseus aligned with the skull / Slain Medusa, Pegasus alight from us all.”

I am tired, but my bed is the couch in the living room, so I have to wait for my family to leave. It seems almost silly to write about something so trivial next to my dreams & the constellations, but I suppose this is just as much a part of me as those things. I’m finding it hard to write. My cousin is slurping soup next to my couch bed after I began turning out all of the lights.

I feel strangely tired. It gets dark earlier here, and for longer. I feel like I spend my trips here just noticing things: the way the grass is different here; the way my aunt & grandpa's personalities & habits have this overlap with my mom's; license plates, trees, speed limits, telephone wires & pylons, Christmas lights. We did a lot today, but a lot of my day was just noticing the things around me.

This is the view from the window by my bed (the couch).

I didn't do a lot today. We stayed home, but everything felt novel & special to me, because it was. I read some more of Crime & Punishment & I love it. I could not have chosen a better book to be my companion on this trip. I love it so much that I don't want to finish it.

My aunt & I made chicken & dumpling soup & it was delicious; She is an incredible cook. Her dog had a seizure & died for a minute, I think. She shook the dog & couldn't feel its heartbeat or see it breathing till it suddenly started again. She kept telling him to live till one more summer, so he could feel the sun on his old bones. Somehow, I think he will, though I don't think the dog was having seizures when I was here in July. Of course, I also thought it would be a snowy winter wonderland when I got here & I have been greeted with overcast cold weather & rain instead. I'm just naive, I think. I think things will work out for me, the way I want them to, no matter what, with no justification for it & no signs of stopping. Maybe if the little dog can't live until another summer, it can live until a warm spring day.

I'm laying on my aunt's couch under the glow of the fridge & some stray Christmas lights. I can see the lights moving across the wooden ceiling above me. I smell the old wood stove that's been here since I was a child. My grandfather is in the next room over & I can hear the murmur of his T.V. I am content.

I arrived in Oregon earlier today, about 1:00 PM. Very tired because I slept four hours last night. Spent my airport time & flights drifting in & out of consciousness, so tired my vision blurred & I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was a blur, but it felt like it went on forever. I am very tired & my aunt's couch is the most comfortable place in the world.

I woke up feeling sick today, sick to my stomach. It was miserable. I am nervous about my flight tomorrow. Nervous is actually not the right word for this, fear, I feel fear. I feel afraid. If I think too much about it, my hands begin to tremble. I do not want this to be like my train rides in October. I’m very scared. The only comfort to me is that this fear will soon be proof of capability. I will feel scared again & I will tell myself Vashti, you felt scared last time & did it. You can do it again. And I will say that to myself over & over again, as many times as necessary, until I stop feeling afraid or until I die one day. My fear doesn’t matter as long as I do it anyways, right?

This morning my mom took us to the used bookstore, but I forgot that meant that we would have to go to half a dozen unmentioned stores beforehand. None of them matter, just the feeling of nausea that wouldn’t leave me this morning. There’s this sharp & clear part of my morning, where I remember so clearly standing in an electronics store for about twenty minutes while my step-father compared phone chargers & the lights were blaring right overhead & there was a speaker above me, like the worst halo in the world, & it was playing this pop Christmas song & I just felt the urge to vomit at the base of my throat.

After we came home from those fruitless ventures- I did not find the copy of the book I wanted- I put my clothes in the wash for tomorrow’s trip & showered. Then I set off for the bus stop. I felt thoroughly miserable on my walk to the bus, though far more calm & less nauseous, until I sat down on the bench & waited fifteen minutes or so for my bus to arrive. I looked at the sky & it was beautiful. I looked at the telephone wires & it was beautiful. It was all beautiful. I played Peng! 33 by Stereolab on a loop & made myself listen to its words. I began to feel right again & took pictures of the sky.

I got to the movie theatre & was hungry but didn’t feel ready to get myself food yet in case I felt sick again, so I went straight to my seat. I watched Godzilla Minus One (2023). I haven’t seen a kaiju movie before & did not expect to cry, but I did. It was a beautiful movie.

After that, I had an hour before E met me at the theatre to watch The Boy & the Heron. I walked to the nearby grocery store to get candy to sneak into the theatre & the sky was beautiful on my walk again. As I left the theatre there was this cool breeze, just for a few moments. I was feeling pretty good & after the grocery store. I got myself an iced chai & met E at the theatre. The movie was very good. My two movies today were more than enough to make up for the mediocrity of what I watched yesterday. When it was finished, E & I talked for so long that I missed my bus home. We stood outside the theatre & talked for almost an hour.

E drove me home & I arrived to find that my brother had already left for his dad’s house. I thought he was spending the night here tonight. He thought I was going to be here before he left. We both misunderstood each other. My mom was very upset with me when I came home, but when isn’t she? I bought my brother a Ramune earlier today, but since we couldn’t share it, I left it on his pillow with a note & an apology for missing him.

Now that I have no movies & no E to distract me, I'm feeling very scared again. My jaw hurts from clenching it. I would still say that I've had a good day today.

I don’t really care about today. I’m visiting my mother & I feel very wrong. It happens every time I’m at her house, I feel something gnawing away at my confidence, cleanliness. Being here makes me feel small & filthy.

Stayed away from my mom’s house most of the day & saw two movies at the theatre, both with my sister & one with my brother. Took the bus home after dark. My sister & brother described the bus’ smell as that of the inside of a vacuum. There's something disorienting about taking the bus at night, because you can barely see where you're going. It made me feel uncertain & exposed. I walked for thirty or so minutes through the night to get home with my sister & our nine year old brother. It makes me a bit sad that my mom doesn’t care enough about us to pick us up. Or to lend me her luggage. I don’t think she likes me. I held my brother's hand through his sweatshirt sleeve & it became slightly damp. I wish the walk could’ve lasted longer. It was the best part of my day.

I don’t feel good. I did all of these things that make me happy, but I don't feel happy. Visiting my mom feels like falling backwards after climbing to a high place.

I'm tired & I have a headache. I never get headaches. I'll try to write about my day before I go to bed, but I need to rest a bit. I think right now, what I really want is for someone to hug me & for my bags to be packed for me & for me to be able to do things whilst resting my eyes & to be able to write without typing.

I won't finish my room before I leave, but that's okay. Normally I'd feel guilty about it, but right now I'm indulging in some laziness & it feels nice. This isn't a feeling that I get to experience very often, that I allow myself to experience. I'm going to tidy my things so it's clean & leave the rearranging for when I return from my trip. I scheduled a day between when I come home & when I go back to work, so I'll finish things up then. It'll be good. I can tell.

When I was laying in bed earlier, my sister's bed, I became aware of my own heartbeat, conscious of it, & whenever that happens, which is often, I become accutely aware of the fact that one day it will stop & I will be dead. This small instance of terror gets to me, like a stab, but it's also like a veil is being lifted & I'm seeing clearly for just a moment. It's like looking at the sun. I think it's good for me, keeps me oriented, makes me remember the way I'm going & that the way I'm going is to my death. It's almost easy to forget that sometimes.

1. Watch Godzilla Minus One (2023), Mon 12/11
2. Pack bags for Oregon, Mon 12/11 & Tues 12/12
• wallet
• clothes
• phone & charger
• laptop & charger
• 3DS & charger (I got a 3DS for Christmas!)
• sketchbook
• pencil & pen case
• pads
• planner
3. Download boarding pass to phone
4. Go to used bookstore & find copy of Crime & Punishment
• Return library copy
5. Visit with my little brother before I leave for a few weeks
6. Watch Dream Scenario (2023), Tues 12/12
7. Meet up with E
• Don't forget E's cheesecake!
8. Watch The Boy & the Heron (2023) with E
9. Leave for Oregon, Wed 12/13

My mom's being a dick about luggage. My trip is in two days & she let me use her luggage last time, but told me I need to get my own this time, tonight... I don't have a car to go buy luggage, so I guess I'll just pack a duffel bag of clothes for myself & then a backpack as a carry-on. I'm not really worried about it. It's just funny to me, because my mom wants me to bring an entire luggage-worth of gifts to the family that I'm visiting & I can't do that without luggage, so I guess all of those gifts are just going to sit in her house instead.

I'm going to finish cleaning my room tonight, putting pictures up. My mom won't get to me. I'm going to her house tomorrow, but only so I can see my brother. If my brother didn't live there then I would never see her. I'll probably come home at 3:00 when he gets home from school. I don't know where I'll go for the first half of the day. I always feel weird about complaining here. It seems so... pointless, so banal. Who cares if I have mom & dad & sister & family issues? It's hard to even bring myself to care.

Today I went to a fancy restaurant, a “Brazilian steakhouse,” I think it’s called. It was a restaurant where the waiters wear ties & walk around slicing meat onto your plate. The food was good, but I’m realizing that maybe Vashti just doesn’t like meat that much. My dad & family were talking about how delicious it was, & yes it was good, but it didn’t taste very different from any other meat dish that I’d had, you know? I’d go back, but not if the next time were to go like this time.

Today we went with my step-grandfather who I dislike very much & his [Redacted Fancy Car Club]. I do not like him because he always jokes & refers to me as “Smiley,” because it’s just so funny that Vashti isn’t expressive & he thinks that he’s a comedian & he thinks that I’m a clown who needs smiley face paint to wear with her pearls to lunch. This is a recurring theme in relationships with others; They always tell me to smile more. Always. Always. They think that they can give me the instruction to smile & they think that I will do it & they are wrong. I am not an expressive person. It normally feels like I have to perform or act out any relationships that I have on this script & everyone is just making it up as they go along & my script, even though I took all this time to write it, doesn’t pass as human properly. I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to smile for people, so I’m not going to do it. I betrayed myself & smiled for my mom at Thanksgiving & it felt disgusting to me. I’m not going to make myself feel disgusting to make other people feel good. When I make myself smile & don’t mean it, it feels like somehow my body is their body, the person who is telling me to smile, & I’m just stuck in it. My body is mine; It doesn’t belong to other people. I hate anyone who tells me to smile. I mean it. I think it’s disgusting & I think it shows that they see me as this little thing, this little object, that does not possess agency. They don’t tell other people to do it either. It’s just a Vashti Special, because Vashti is weird & there’s something off about her so it’s okay if we correct it. Vashti is wrong & is deviating & we are right & we are normal & we are virtuous. That’s what they mean when they tell me to smile.

My step-mother was very insistent that we dress up for this restaurant, and what people mean when they tell me to dress up is that I need to wear something form fitting & I need to not wear my usual baggy clothes. When people, my family, tell me to dress up, they mean they want a visible outline of bust & my waist & my hips & my figure, so I look feminine. It’s like they’re instructing me to expose myself, but they pretend this isn’t what they mean. I don’t like it. & I hate when my step-mother makes comments about my clothes. Or my hair. She does it constantly. Everyone does, but her in particular, because she’s jealous of me. She always makes comments about my appearance & then asks to borrow my clothes, my clothes, she asks to borrow my clothes. & everyone pretends that it’s normal, because my step-mother is such a charming & good, pleasant person that she threatens to divorce my dad to make him cry when they argue. She’s done it many times. They sat me down maybe a year ago & told me they were divorcing & I was very excited, because I think my dad has only stayed with her because they’re both poor. Yesterday, wait, the night before, my step-mother accused me of ignoring her & asked me why. The answer is that I hate her, because she is stupid & my dad tells me that I have to pretend she’s right so she doesn’t throw a fit, & because she doesn’t like me. The only time she speaks to me is to ask to borrow my clothes, which I ignore every time. My dad told me to just put up with her essentially & avoid her, but he pretends in front of her that he has not said this. This was about clothes though, she makes comments about my appearance, but she is jealous of me & asks to borrow my clothes. It’s annoying & I think that it’s pathetic.

You could tell that the [Redacted Fancy Car Club] people were actually rich & that we were not, because they didn’t try to dress up & we did. I was better dressed than them. I wore a dress & a pearl necklace & stockings & dress shoes & they were wearing ugly Christmas sweaters & button ups. It was silly. My step-mother really cares about appearances. Last Christmas she got upset that I dyed my hair right before we took our Christmas photos. I wore a beautiful dress for the photo & her son, her real son, wore I think sweats or jeans & that was okay but Vashti’s dyed hair was not. I’ve never forgotten that. But at the same time, she wants to dress like me. Do you see how this could be really annoying?

We sat in this event room, which is like a conference room, & we were extremely cramped & there were maybe fifty or sixty or seventy [Redacted Fancy Car Club] members & it was loud the entire time & it was horrible. & this lady kept yelling into this microphone to speak to the [Redacted Fancy Car Club] & had the audacity to whistle like the crowd was a crowd of dogs & not of people & I found it to be very rude, but mostly just loud. We were right next to her & she was yelling, yelling, she kept yelling while I was trying to eat & I could not wear my noise cancelling headphones because no one understands, no, no one listens to me when I say I need them. Everyone likes to call Vashti autistic like it’s a haha funny joke, so funny, teehee, Vashti doesn’t behave the way that we’ve prescribed to her, she’s so bad with people, she’s autistic! Isn’t it funny? But if Vashti says that she genuinely believes that she is autistic or has some sort of sensory disorder, that she feels this pervasive sense of being different, that she feels like she has to play pretend how to act & has no natural self, that she cannot handle lights & noises, well she’s just doing that for attention. She’s saying this so that she can be left alone, but really she just wants attention.

Several [Redacted Fancy Car Club] members told the woman to quit yelling into the microphone & she took offense to it. When she spoke or yelled into the microphone, you could hear every breath. It was like she snuck a piece of one of the fancy meats up there & was gnawing on it. It was disgusting.

It was so loud & crowded & horrible that I started to feel unable to eat anymore. I don’t know how to describe it. I just felt kind of sick to my stomach like I wanted to go home. We were there for over two hours & those people are the most boring people that I’ve ever met. I think it’s because they’re rich. I can’t think to mention anything interesting or important that was said in the two or so hours that I was there because there wasn’t anything. One guy said that he wasn’t going to drink a lot because he was driving his Porsche. What a dick. I hope he crashes his little toy car & I hope that it’s only him that crashes, that he doesn’t hit anyone else.

I said that I was happy to have left because it was so loud & overwhelming & my dad told me I need to deal with the real world eventually. What did I do that wasn’t dealing with it? Please tell me. I’m so curious to know.

I don't like going out with my family very much. As I was sitting in the fancy restaurant, I was thinking to myself how I would have had a better time getting McDonald's with my little brother or dinner at E's house.

I came home & went on a walk & took a three hour nap after that.

I feel a little bad complaining, but oh well. I'm just different & like different things. There is nothing wrong with that, no matter what anyone else insists.

These are some things that I want to have done by the time I go back to school in January:

1. Q+A
2. New Year's reflection
3. thylacine shrine
4. Laika shrine
5. re-do landing page
6. music page
7. poems page

The first thing I did when I got home from my shift today, before I even took my grease smelling shoes off, is cut my hair in the bathroom with some kitchen scissors, the type that’s used to cut thick slices of meat. I think that I look nice, more dykeish & more handsome, but I think every haircut looks good on me because I think I’m beautiful. I didn’t have a haircut in mind while I was cutting my hair, I just wanted to perform the action of cutting my hair for the sake of it. When I looked at myself in the passenger mirror in the car on the way home, I knew it was time. I would dye my hair again, but I will be in Oregon less than a week from now & I don’t want to stain my aunt’s new bathtub. I’ll have to wait until after the new year.

The weather is nice & it feels good to feel the breeze on the back of my neck again. I'm going to go on a walk & feel the breeze.

I am feeling lighter.

I want to do something; I want to clean my room; I want to fix something, but sometimes the best thing that you can do for yourself is to brush your teeth & go to bed.

I’m staying at the library for a few hours after work. I’d write about my shift, but who cares? I don’t. I’m going back to my dad’s house & he has this after school thing until 7:30 PM, so I’m just waiting around for him. I say “my dad’s house” even though it’s where I live. Maybe I should call it “home,” but I think “home” implies that it is mine, a place for me, but I do not think that’s the case. I call my mom’s house “home” even though I’m barely there anymore, even though I don’t even like visiting. At least I used to. Maybe it’s because that’s my childhood home from when my parents were still together. Neither of them are really mine anymore. I want to leave. My parents want me to leave. And they want me to stay. They want me to stay, but they want me to feel like I owe them, like I'm indebted to them because I got to keep my childhood bedroom. Well, I didn't get to keep my room at my mom's. She wants me to feel indebted to her for the bunk bed that I sleep on sometimes that belongs to her new family.

I say this, but my mom asked me when I was coming home yesterday. My work is about three miles from her house, so I said if she got me from work, then I would stay the night. I told her that I don't want to pay fifteen dollars to visit her when I have someone who will give me a ride for free. My dad said that was harsh, but what else is there to say? If she really wanted to see me, she could drive three miles & see me. She didn't want to see me that badly. I don't think either of my parents really miss me when I'm gone. They say they do, but I think they're just saying that because they're supposed to.

When I'm at my dad's house, I'm not allowed to sit in the living room without permission, because seeing me on the couch bothers him, but he also says that he misses me. I think this is a contradiction. And it's embarassing to tell people. Maybe this is why it's "my dad's house" and not "home." I have a room there, but if I leave my room I'm looked at like vermin. I would say I hate living at home, but it's not my home. I mean that I hate living with my parents. I'm supposed to be grateful though. Maybe I would be if my dad wasn't mean to me. He was talking to me a couple of days ago & all I could think is Why can't my family just be nice to me?

Writing this feels depressing. It makes me feel kind of ashamed.

None of this really bothers me as much as usual. I feel like I'm living in spite of it. It's hard to explain, but I used to try to be as accomodating as I possibly could. I used to feel so guilty because my parents told me that I could live with them if I went to school & got a degree & I accepted their offer. But now I realize they just want me to feel bad. I really think that, even if they don't realize it. I wonder how our relationship will be when I don't need them anymore? I've said all of this & it doesn't really bother me anymore. It's just a fact to me, a list of facts about my family: Vashti has a mom & a dad. Vashti's parents are divorced. Vashti normally stays at her dad's house. Vashti is the oldest child. Vashti thinks her parents prefer her sister & Vashti's sister think her parents prefer Vashti. Vashti's sister resents her for this. When their parents are mean to her, Vashti's sister blames Vashti. Vashti's dad once asked Vashti if she liked Hello Kitty while Vashti was holding a Hello Kitty purse & her room was plastered in Hello Kitty posters. Vashti's parents have both separately threatened to kick her out multiple times. Half of the time Vashti's family is mean & half of the time they're nice. When the family went out to dinner last month, Vashti's sister called Vashti & asked if she should invite a friend to dinner so their dad would be nice to them. Vashti got yelled at in the parking lot during that dinner trip. There's no emotion attached to any of these statements anymore, just the weight of reality.

I am feeling too good to sleep, but I'm going to go to sleep anyways. Tomorrow I work an 8 1/2 hour shift that starts at 7:30 AM (normally my shifts are 10 or 11:00 AM & I'm asleep at 7:30) & I won't get home until 8:00-8:30 PM or so.

I am done with school now, until the third week of January. I took the bus to the library & I sat across from this lady & her kid, so I could look at them. There was something not weird, but different about them. I don’t know how to explain it. They were sitting in a pair of seats, the kid sleeping against the window. I couldn’t see the kid from my seat. The lady, I call her a lady & I can’t guess what her age was, was wearing these funny shoes. They were brown leather, made from two different shades & their design was mirrored between the shoes, so it was like she was a jester. The toes were pointed & curled & I think they’re called winklepickers. The rest of her outfit was just clothes. There was nothing cohesive about it & I don’t know if it could be called an outfit. I spent most of the time staring at her shoes. They had this plant motif, like ivy. They looked like they once cost a lot of money, but the leather was wearing thin towards the soles of the shoes & she was riding the bus with me, so she wasn’t wealthy anymore. She & her kid were wearing these giant hats, like they were going on a safari. I couldn’t see their faces. It reminded me of the hoods these women wear in the book The Handmaid’s Tale.

Because of the way they were dressed & the fact that it was a mother & child, or maybe a grandparent & child, I thought they must be going to the library like me, but they got off near the hospital. After that I looked at them through the window as we drove off & then at the outside world through the window for the rest of my ride. I saw an old lady outside who had a cane that looked like one of those ski poles. I didn’t read my book, because I knew if I were to read anything that I’d become too engrossed in it to notice my stop. On rides I’m normally in my own head & I would describe the way time passes as choppy. I come out of my thoughts & back to the car or the bus & realize that the middle of a new song is playing, so I must’ve been out of it for a few minutes.

I’m hungry, but there’s no food worth buying near the library. It’s all overpriced & I don’t have a problem with spending money on good food, but none of it is good. The only decently priced thing is a snow cone stand & a donut shop that has kolaches. I like kolaches, but theirs are no good.

I might go buy a milkshake at the candy shop my old friend used to work at. We’re not very close anymore. Yesterday while I was rearranging my walls, I took a polaroid of her down. I didn’t see any reason in keeping it up. This would have mattered to me once, but it doesn't anymore. I'm almost thankful. I'm going to go get myself an old friendship flavored milkshake.

My December playlist:

1. Chicago by Sufjan Stevens (Regular or Demo Version)
2. Peng! 33 by Stereolab
3. Sea, Swallow Me by Cocteau Twins & Harold Budd
4. The Brae by Yumi Zouma

I was trying to think of a word to describe how I feel right now & the word that came to mind was "powerful," a word that I have never thought to use in the same sentence as Vashti (or my real name). Saying it makes me sound kind of ridiculous, or like I'm not myself. I tend to see myself as not quite meek, but small. Right now I feel big & strong & powerful. I feel like when I smile it's going to be to show my teeth to the world, to bare my teeth to the world. You know, I truly believe that my appearance is absolutely perfect as it is, but I have always wanted sharp, pointy teeth in my mouth. I feel good right now.

I am redoing my room for the new year & it is becoming a bigger project than I had originally planned, because I am now redoing the walls of my room, taking old posters down. It feels strange, because it's not that I dislike what's on those posters now, but it feels as though I've outgrown them a bit. It's still me, but a much smaller part of me, one that does not need to be brandished on a poster. The only thing that is going to remain untouched is my fashion wall, a collection of outfits that I like that is pasted to my closet door. That part of me is still the same, I'm just going to add to it. I think I'll leave up my MP100 poster too, & I have a cute Hello Kitty poster, two of them. Not cute as in awww but cute as in I like their design.

I took down a Sanrio poster & put up a collage of various art pieces in its place. I've wanted to do that for months, but I've viewed this room as too temporary to bother with it, because I'm moving out soon enough anyways, only a year & a half. Putting up these beautiful pictures on a wall that doesn't belong to me reminded me of this book that I read, Moshi Moshi by Banana Yoshimoto. Before this restaurant gets torn down, the characters clean it, because they want it to be beautiful when it gets destroyed. I didn't understand that before. Well I understood it, but I thought it was just a story thing, but it's not; It's a real life thing too. These pictures are the same thing to me. We both want to surround ourselves with something good, even if it's temporary, before it goes. In the end, everything is temporary, so you need to live now. There are no ends, just means.

The pictures are at a funny angle because I was on a step-ladder. When I took the first picture, I couldn't even see it on my camera, because I had to hold my phone to the left of my head. The very left cluster of pictures are a part of Vashti's fashion wall.

I finally put my clean sheets on my bed a few days ago too. They sat in a heap on the foot of my bed for about a month before I put them on my bed. I even flipped my mattress too. That may be small to you reading this, but it is big to me. I took a picture, because I thought the light in this photo was beautiful, despite how mundane the photo itself is. Well, I actually love pictures & painting & documentation of the mundane. Isn't that what this diary is, this website?

& here is something I found on my walk today. Maybe I really am being watched over.

I feel weird. Not bad, but more amped up than normal. Time has passed really quickly today for some reason. Today I'm going to finish rearranging my room for the new year & I'm going to finish my last math assignments of the semester. My math test tomorrow marks the end of the semester for me, and one more week until I leave. I have an eight and a half hour shift on Thursday, a five hour one on Friday, & then after that, I don't work until I come home from Oregon in January. I don't have a lot to say right now. I feel weird.

I have this bad habit where I avoid going to sleep because I feel safest & most at ease at night, but then I wake up feeling icky in the morning. Going to sleep now. Might read some more of Crime & Punishment before bed. I've been having sleep troubles lately, & now that I think of it, maybe choosing to use my laptop in bed for hours while sipping on a coffee was unwise. I need to be more careful with my sleep than usual. I don't want these sudden good feelings to devolve into (hypo)mania. My last manic episose immediately followed a depressive one, so I need to be more cautious than usual. Sometimes it makes me feel sad that I have to look at any happiness through a lens of suspicion. I don't like the way that it feels, but I have no alternative. This is just the reality of how things are for me, even if it's unfortunate at times- A lot of the time. Taking care of myself does not always feel good. It doesn't even usually feel good.

I'm avoiding going to bed for some reason. I think I'm nervous about my school interview for tomorrow. I shouldn't be. It's just a formality & I already have a spot in the program & my guaranteed scholarship money, but I am anyways.

Drank a coffee while I was doing my writing assignment & it was strangely good, even though it was just some instant stuff with cream & sugar. I'm laying in bed with my laptop & my back hurts in the spot where I hurt it last month, or was it the month before? I took a bath. Then I went back to my assignment, but my dad was putting up the Christmas tree so I watched him do that instead. I had to sit down because I got really lightheaded. I think it was the hot bath & the hot coffee that did me in. If you didn't know, Vashti has this really cute & charming habit where she gets lightheaded & faints from time to time. She's a pro at it too! She always smacks her head against something, normally a wall & then the floor, but never gets a concussion or even a bruise. It's an art that I have perfected to the point where I can do it unconsciously. I'm about to finish my stupid assignment. I have to write about Matsuo Basho & William Wordsworth.

Went home & ate miso soup, because no one can taste it for me. Then I went on a walk & felt the sun on my skin & the cool December air, because no one can feel them for me. Now I'm going to do my literature final exam because unfortunately, no one can do it for me.

School is over for the day & I rode the bus to the coffee shop by the library. I normally sit at the very back of the bus & the seats are always slighty warm because they're against the wall with the AC & heating & stuff. The warmth is slightly uncomfortable, like a bath that is too hot, but I like it. I like to be uncomfortable on purpose sometimes. It makes me feel more human & more alive. I take baths that are too hot or showers that are cold & go out without a jacket when it's cold & go out without an umbrella when it's raining. It makes me feel good. Sometimes when I'm really stressed, I have the thought that I should stab myself with something & that would make me quit thinking about things & I think it's the same thing as making myself physically uncomfortable, only I don't stab myself because it's bad for me. The underlying thought is the same though, that I want to feel a strong bodily sensation to feel more attached to my body. I thought everyone thought this way until one day in high school I mentioned to my friend that I have the recurring thought to stab myself in the right leg with a fork & got a bunch of empty stares. I think it's the exact same thing in my mind as if I were to say I like taking walks in the rain, only you can't say that you want to stab yourself with a fork & you can say that you like taking walks in the rain.

I'm at the coffee shop & got an iced peppermint matcha per the barista's suggestion when I asked what to try & it is crisp & wintery. There's this giant box as you walk in, a crate made from wood, and it's about my height. I asked the barista what was in it, a fridge, & she said that everyone had been asking that. I suppose it's human nature to want to know what's inside boxes & to want to know what would happen if you stabbed a fork into your right thigh.

Despite all of this stabbing talk, Vashti's doing well today, I think. I feel good & strong.

I ate chocolate ice cream & rearranged my manga collection & lost track of time & now it's bedtime. I guess I'll have to do my laundry tomorrow. About to pack my school bag (well my purse) for tomorrow, my last week of the semester. Recording my mood in my planner. Today was good. I was good.

I haven’t written much these past few days because I’ve been keeping myself busy. I’m going to be leaving to Oregon the Wednesday after next & I’m not coming back until after the New Year, so I want my room & my things to be sorted & ready for me. I want everything to be clean when I come back; I want it to be lighter. I would say my room is clean already, but I mean really cleaning it, sorting through my things, using disinfectant wipes, etc; I’m not doing this halfway.

This isn’t to say that I’ve spent all of my time cleaning. I’ve done schoolwork too, & I’ve been focusing on coming back to my hobbies. I’ve been showering every day & taking baths. I’ve been eating, not even just eating, cooking too. I’ve just been doing things, doing things, doing things. It feels good.

I’ve also been listening to less music. Normally I have music on, my headphones on constantly, but I’ve been easing off, taking away background noise. When I lay down to sleep at night, my heart is gripped with anxiety, like there’s a fist in my chest, squeezing, squeezing, wrenching & my thoughts run away & they run so fast that I can’t keep up with them & I’m just overcome with fear, fear about everything, like that fist that’s pressing down on me is just the weight of the future and of things that I’ve left unfulfilled. When I lay down, it feels like things are catching up to me & my heart is beating because it thinks that I’m running. I think that maybe if I were to let myself face these problems, well thoughts, during the day as they come up that I won’t be so scared at night anymore, so I’m trying to be alone with my thoughts. I listen to music when I go on walks & I listened to music when I was cooking earlier, but through a speaker, not my headphones, so I wouldn’t be closed off. I think it’s making me feel better.

I took a bath tonight & I was just thinking to myself, because I had nothing else to do, & I realized something: I’m bipolar & that makes things really hard for me & I’ve been using it as a reason to not try, when that’s not how it should be. Maybe it’ll give me a reason to fail sometimes, but it doesn’t mean I should stop trying to make myself better. It feels obvious when I say it now, but something really shifted in my thinking.

When I went to go write this, I accidentally opened my /diary03 page & it felt like writing the wrong year on something.

Even though school is ending this week, I thought it was time to set up my planner. I'm going to use it as a place to track my mood. My depression snuck up on me, & it was only rereading my diary entries that I realized I hadn't been doing well for months. I may also use it for to-do lists.

It’s a new month & all I have to show for it is hair that’s faded from purple into pink & orange. Today I put on a white dress & I cleaned my room.

Here is the type of person that I am, that I’ve been: I washed my sheets a month ago & today I put them on my bed. To put my sheets on my bed, I had to move the pile of clean laundry that had been sitting there for weeks. My room has posters that I’ve bought but never put up & manga that I’ve bought but never read. I feel the weight of unplayed games & they’re no longer in a queue, they’re in a heap. I haven’t been able to keep up with Animal Crossing & my flowers have died. On my desk, I have a few flashcards that I’ve written but haven’t studied & many flashcards that I haven’t even touched. This is the type of person I am. I’ve been starting things but not finishing them. I’ve done it my whole life & I’m done. I hate it. I don't want to live like this anymore.

I keep saying that I want change, but I've forgotten that I have hands & that change is a verb, an action. Change is something that I do, not a state that washes over me. I'm being serious. If I don't change now, when will I? I want to be different, radically different. I'm saying this & I'm saying it with conviction: I want to look back at this one day & I want to be unrecognizable to myself. I want to be better & transformed. I don't know if I can make this feeling last, but I'm really going to try to make these actions last. My life is right now & no one can live it for me. Change is right now & no one can change things for me. I'm desperate.

It's a new month, so I'm cleaning my room. I'm going to start new & start fresh. Things are looking up for me, because I'm turning my head to look up. I am in control. It might be painful, but I'm going to make this a clean break.