I get to write a paper. I’m trying to reframe the narrative of have to and get too. I generally disdain writing papers. I always seem to struggle to communicate that in which is necessary to complete a “perfect” paper. That goes back to the goal isn’t perfection but to learn something. So tomorrow, I get to write a paper!

Kindness is the key not self hatred.

Recently I’ve been listening to this song Murky by Pher. January has been so Murky. I’ve been allowing myself to settle in the murky a bit better. Whatever it may be.

I’m accepting the changing of the tides. my friendships are feeling as ships drifting out at sea. i’m hoping by putting a message in a bottle that it will reach them. i’m in a flux of my identity and my direction. all i’ve felt as is an island left in a large expansive ocean. wondering who next will dock at my shore and who will be the next boat to sail away.

I often get stuck in my own head…going circles around my thoughts to come to some sort of conclusion. Second guessing myself. Impostering my way through it seems. However, I know I love bookstores and I know I loved you. I’m suprised to find a favorite bookstore still exist after three years apart. The yellow exterior still the guiding light. I don’t know If it is reasonable to reach out to you anymore. However, in three years time I’m sure I will still be loving you.

I used to get this weekly feeling and internal knowing that it was indeed Friday. Each day of the week had a feeling tone. For some time it has gone away. I kinda wish to have that Friday feeling again.

CVS just one day closed up shop and left my neighborhood. The same could be said of you. I remained a loyal customer and friend till the bitter end. Never getting a proper goodbye. I would have boughten that last box of pop tarts. I did buy you one last birthday present which I didn’t know would be the goodbye it was. Nonetheless, I’ve to find peace with the hole that you and CVS have left.

I’m struggling to finish my personal essay for a graduate school application. I’ve never considered myself a person able to write. Grammar and I have never been in a fluent relationship. I find it laughable I publish my medium blurbs. However, I do this to expel some interal rubbles. Writing for critque makes me feel overwhelmed with dread. Fear and judgement are at the root of my writing avoidance. I have this sense that my writing doesn’t measure up. I missed my last application deadline. I got upset with myself and then have been avoiding completing it.

I’m am striving for progress not perfection. Currently, struggling to write my graduate school application. It will not be what I would want but enough. Working through some turbulent emotions but proud of being able to accept and feel.