The Things That Have Happened, The Things That Occur

There’s a certain phenomenon that pretty much anyone who wants to do something experiences. What’ll happen is you’ll be experiencing something that you connect with. An artist will be at an art gallery, an athlete will be at a sports game, an actor will be watching a play. It’ll be the best of it’s kind, something top notch and undeniably appreciable. But you can’t stand it. But not because the product is bad, but because you understand it. It vibrates with you on a wavelength so perfectly in tune with your life goals and desires. You understand the content, and you understand the creator–and you realize that that person needs to be you. Your heart aches for greatness, to express your thoughts and to show people just what you’re capable of doing. But for whatever reason, you can’t. Maybe it’s needing to complete school, or waiting to make the team, or trying to score some more auditions or something. But something’s holding you back. You’re stuck there; you can’t move. And you resign yourself to persisting to try to progress while you watch someone else do whatever it is you love on a level you can only hope for.

I’ve been stuck in that zone for a while, a long while, and now I’m finally breaking through.

The past several weeks have been eventful for me, and insightful. Both in the way things have played out and the actual things that have happened. I’ve been tried and tested and had several firsts and learning experiences. And I’ve wanted nothing more than to divulge it all on here, to freely express my thoughts on one of the best platforms on the internet for doing so. But, running a website like this, you sort of become a curator at the same time. Your site is a museum and you decide the pieces, the exhibits and everything. You work so hard on it and you try so hard to please; you don’t want to muck it up. So you filter out a lot of the stuff that you wish so sincerely that you could show, because you think it’ll make it better for everyone. For me, it’s taken the form of filtering out a lot of the personal stuff I wish I could post, for the sake of quality control here on this blog, and the desire for it to be about more than myself. But I feel now that that makes the whole thing feel a bit too impersonal, and while I will maintain this quality control, I’ll keep you more informed about my life in the future. For now, here’s a quick rundown.

I’ve been super busy with life recently, focusing a lot on myself. Financial problems due to my parents’ divorce has caused a lot of personal changes that have had varying amounts of ramifications throughout my life. Especially starting late last summer, money for me has been tight, and I’ve had to save and improvise in areas that I haven’t before. Financial freedom is something that has been different for me. Without going into too much detail, a several different factors have caused these difficulties, and although I’m working hard to fix them, they’ve taken their toll.

The first eventful thing that happened was that I got a job at Target. It was okay, besides my shitty ableist coworkers. I got fired a few weeks afterwards, but it was deeply unjust, so I decided to sue the company. That’ll be a whole other post on it’s own, though; you can rest assured that the issue will get it’s own post once the issue is settled. I also rekindled relationships with several friends. I’ve started talking with those that I used to talk to a lot, those that I never thought I’d talk to, and those I never thought I’d talk to again. Both friends and enemies alike, old issues were brought up and settled. Some of these issues will be brought up again in the future, too.

This has also marked a huge era of progress and recovery for me. Record lows in depression, loneliness, and other things that I’d been known to suffer from. But one of the biggest things in my life these past few weeks has been my plans for this website. I plan to turn this into something much bigger and better than what I ever thought it could be. You’ll know exactly what I mean very soon in the future, but I’ve been investing large amounts of my time into it. I have to, in order to fulfill that burning desire mentioned at the beginning of this article. Ideas, thoughts, and all my hopes in life will all come together in one project–although calling it a “project” seems like an understatement.

Lastly, my birthday is happening on Monday. I will turn 20 years old. One thing I’m prone to is trying to scramble to do 1,000 things to prepare, because I feel like I have to commemorate the event. No longer a teenager, I feel like it’s especially important to do that now. What I want to do is this thing, a practice wherein you write a letter to yourself in the future, so your future self can read it and see how much you’ve changed. I want to do some form of that, but for varying lengths of time. Like one for 1 year from now, one for 5 years, and so on. I want to also start some sort of birthday tradition, too. As you can see, memories are one of my best friends.

More content and important information should be coming up soon, so watch out for that. And to clarify; I feel fine and all, I just definitely have to get some things in order. I’m sure you all have been itching to see more, and of course, I will deliver. Hang tight and stay sane, and just to let you know, your thoughts are real.

Frigid (W.I.P)

“Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold.”

Andre Maurois

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Trepidation. Everyone else in the house was asleep by then, even Mother–I made sure of that. But still, that’s the best word I can find to describe the feeling. Trepidation.

Not even I fully understood it. Behind me, there was a pull. Thanksgiving had been but a day and a few hours ago, and it was wonderful. The supper was wonderful, I saw all sorts of family that had been longing to see each other. There was an air of love and appreciation. One of tranquility amidst the turmoil. So leaving that behind and disappearing in the middle of the night–would that not count as treachery?

But I also felt a push. A push incited by the cutting choice words of the irreverent, hypocritical, fundamentalist zealot that I call “Mother”. Her desire to constantly remind me that I would inherit nothing from her, that I depended on her to survive and would not last with my more up-to-date points of view. And the push from my friends, the one that popped the bubble, that shouted in the echo chamber, that shook my mind and helped me come to the conclusion that these skirmishes, all the events of the past several months, were not normal, and I could take things into my own hands. I could fly in the face of her hate and the complacency of those around me. And that was enough to fight my way against that pull.

I planned it out, you know. I chose a time when I knew my brother and both my parents would be asleep. I took note of exactly where the floor creaked in the hallway outside of my room. I then took several sheets of paper, and laid them on top of each of the spots I could find, as to avoid them on my way out just in case anyone woke up. Then the only problem was where I’d escape from, but I had a solution to that too. There was a security system installed, but through prior knowledge, I knew that the sensors on the exit in the bottom near the boiler room had long since been damaged. Open it and no alarm would sound. It’s the only one that does that, and since I’m the one that likes to fiddle around out there, it went unnoticed. That had to be the best option for me.

It was just past 3 a.m. I got up. I was laying in bed idly for a while, but now is when I mobilised myself. I put on my jogging pants, and my shirt. I put on a hoodie, and a slightly thicker jacket over that. I put on gloves, a trapper hat, then I folded up the directions to the hospital that I had printed out earlier, and started out the bedroom door.

The trick is to not push the door slowly; that’s when the creaks happen. You swing it open in one swift motion, without hesitation, and stop it so as to leave just enough room for you to squeeze by.

An explanation, rather than an apology

78 days. That’s low long it’s been since the last time I posted here. I’m sitting here typing and thinking about how many days that is. If you started learning a language from nothing, after 78 days you’d be pretty much conversational. If you planted a field full of cucumbers, you’d be able to harvest them all 78 days later. And, more topically, if I had started working on even one of my minor projects 78 days ago, then I would probably be done by now. And I can’t get over that now.

My lack of transparency has been quite regrettable, I feel like. I’ve neglected giving a ton of updates in order to avoid having my content being too focused on me, but I feel like that’s been detrimental.

Once I get things straightened out, I’ll definitely be posting a more lengthy update to explain everything and the (positive!) changes that are soon to come. Until then, I’ll try to post a few things here and there that I’ve done. I just thought it’s only fair to let you know instead of just suddenly posting content again without saying a word.

Anyways, I’m perfectly fine, and things will hopefully ramp up soon! I appreciate all of the support.

Frigid: Prologue

“Bundle up.”
That’s what he said to me.
I don’t know exactly what made me so fed up at that time, but I was. The discourse in my life, it had reached a level that was totally unbearable to me at the time. The shouting, the arguing, the fighting, crying, panicking. Logic eluded me at that time. All I wanted was an escape, and a solution. And I thought I knew how to get those.
I knew it was stupid, I knew that. But what else was a kid to do, being the victim of a narcissistic abuser like that, with no other options? CPS didn’t do anything. Cops didn’t do anything. Family didn’t do anything; they didn’t even believe me. And all the while I was suffering just about every day. You haven’t felt it. A house with the floor made of eggshells upon which I tread softly but still reap the hatred. I felt the cracking every day, especially of the recent days. And what do you do when there’s a house floored with hazardous materials? You leave.
My two accomplices were helping me. My friend and her friend, both of which I met online. You know, it’s shameful when two people you’ve never met in person are designated to save you from one person whose been with you for 16 out of 16 years. The blood was really thin.
Earlier, a fracas ensued. Such had been waiting to happen since the hellish chain of events late the passing summer. It was now November and this conflict had come to a head. It was the beginning of the end of my depressive phase and yet, I saw this as my only obstacle. But my family, they were a real obstacle. They were an immovable object, and I was a completely and utterly stoppable force. I had to break through. And I had a plan.
The first friend, Alys, was who I considered to be my best friend. We’d met online a few years prior and had kept in touch on and off ever since. The other friend, Yanni, was someone I met only about a month prior, and he was the “boyfriend” of Alys (don’t ask why I put that in quotes). Alys, she ended up telling Yanni everything, and he was very willing to help me. He lived far away, but he had room in his house. I could lodge with him until things got better, I just had to be able to get there. After the argument–I can’t even remember what triggered it– I called Yanni. He and I both agreed that it was time for me to bounce. We spent about 10 minutes planning the logistics of it. I would leave, walk out the back door in the dead of night, and arrive at the hospital. They would see my desperation, and there would be no way they’d have the heart to send me back to that house.
I only saw 1 problem: the bitter cold. It was around freezing those upcoming days, and I knew that the cold would bite my skin, almost as hard as I liked to bite myself in anger. So I brought that up to him. I said to him “it’s gonna be cold out. What should I do to at least prevent hypothermia or something?”
He just told me “Bundle up”.
And I listened to him.

3/14 – a poem I’ve been working on

​Hello all! Here is a poem that I’m working on and will continue to update! I’ve been working really hard on this one, so I hope you like it! More info to come later.

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For a time, I hoped.

Magically to forget; those few, these emotions.


Happiness veiling isolation, fit to few, hardship ever waxing.


My spirit lays dim, but recovery? Now, my meaning satisfies

Petrarchan 21st – A poem I recently finished

Hello everyone! Here is a poem I’ve been working on for a few weeks, right before New Years on the 29th, and just finished right before midnight on Sunday.

Writing this poem was a roller coaster. I started it then planned to post it on New year’s Eve, then decided against it. Then I tried to finish it but it was a lot harder than I expected. I felt like I had to get everything right, and I ended up changing the rhyme words several times throughout. I kept changing little things until I decided to settle with myself, and say “no poem can be 100% perfect”. And after 2 weeks, there became what you see below.

I hope you enjoy as I worked really hard on it. I think this is a good one and it’s one that I’ll look back on a lot for the effort it took.

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Quiet world, wake up and give way to me

My quietness has done harm and shaken 

Asleep in that which yet hasn’t taken

Laying in a place where my mind’s set free
Whence is where my life’s work has come to be

A dream from which I shall not awaken

Lucid, a notion to be mistaken

For what’s in that place is a sight to see
Weary remains the feet across my path

Bramble-laden with a rose at the end

I, resilient and tenfold bettered

Shall still persist through pinnacle or strath

And shall all else become untimely rend

The dream rose will still remain unfettered