12/10/24 ————————— my brain feels loud today, as it always does this time of year. something about December makes me incredibly nostalgic for the way i used to channel my pain into art— all those times when expression and survival seemed nearly synonymous to me. yet now, it feels so silly. frivolous. fleeting. still, i find myself occasionally resorting back to writing a journal entry or two. practicing cursive lettering i thought i left behind alongside my third grade classmates. longing for that connection i once had with art; loving the way she understood me and my atypical brainwaves. i wonder if she will visit me again as i piece together my future. i wonder if she only exists in chaos or will graciously choose me again even though i no longer see her as survival. for now, i wait. 10/17/24 —————————— my ex didn’t like buying me flowers. “flowers are beautiful, but they die. why would i gift you something that doesn’t last?” oh, the irony.