current office - sj 2021

june set-up

finalized set-up (probably)

milpitas house - october 2020

my first office 

miss ya 

lively inside of a new conversation

I caught myself thinking, 'It's been a while...'  

It felt dreary sitting in my head - mildly weighted, but a dull, shallow thought nonetheless. 

This can only mean it's a Sunday.

I'm sitting in my living room. I rolled my bar cart to a corner, placed my laptop a top, and added a bar stool to officially appoint it my new office. I'm reheating leftover spaghetti that Anna's mom made, and of course, my coffee has turned cold from sitting out. I don't even like coffee. It feels like I never have. I may have been drinking it out of obligation to pay attention to my day, but I can't remember most details of anything now. It's a pointless habit, and it all tastes like shit to me. I must find the silliness of it cute or something.

After eating dinner the other night, I said aloud that I wanted 8 more hours in the day so I can bull shit like I used to. Then at 50 y/o, the hours will begin to lessen to coincide with the moment of my death. The slower I get, the less time I need to spend anticipating. I'm just so tired all the time, and I miss hanging with moments. I may be spending the majority of my spare time unwinding from working all day. My brain and bones. My brain and my fucking bones... 

I've only been listening to King Princess. Back at it again with the gay bullshit. It reminds me of when I first Anna. And what that yearning felt like. That incredible pain that somehow lit my ass on fire and demanded me to get my life. It also reminded me of when I first started listening to Tegan and Sara. And what that teenage, gay yearning felt like. First understanding that I was queer and how music was helping me make sense of it.

My adoration for the memories of these...pains. I adore the recalling of it. And I know I'd been miserable through it. But without the miseries, I wouldn't find so much beauty in life all of a sudden. And though it may often bring me sullen, nonsensical bull shit, I still will never help but love this shit.

I feel choppy - fitting since I haven't spoken in so long. Fitting since ...after all these years, there's a comfort being right here. When my thoughts  were purely to express  precisely how I wish. Not that my thoughts are now spoken for... but my thoughts I intend to share outside of this. This was my solitude. This has been with me for so long. I was just writing the other day about the different journals I've  gone through since I was in the 4th grade. And I was wondering why there's  a huge chunk of the happiest  moments of my youth that I wasn't carrying a journal. And I remembered that I was here, replacing my forlorn entries with photos of my friends and the gorgeous little madness we all shared.

Now I'm missing from here, but I'm elsewhere and altogether whole. And I was  wondering why and how I feel so whole. Because I never see my friends as often. And I never get to wander through this life as often. But I never  feel as lonely as how I used to. I never feel like I'm missing out on anything anymore. I never feel like I have to be at a multiple places at once because of a heavy fomo. I can stay out here and be whole.

Is this it?

Finally. 

Disengaged

I stop by and I peer in, but I never say anything. I haven't in a while, and I haven't tried for even longer. I've made it clear to myself that this space isn't for the voice I have now. But there are certain things I hold on to. Certain things I can't completely look away from. It might always be that way. But I'm giving myself credit for acknowledging. 

It's a quiet Sunday. Almost all my Sundays are quiet. Anna leaves for the day to go to church and spend time with her family. I stay home and hang out with the boys; Rover, Arlo, and sometimes Sarah. I stay in bed a lot. I watch movies that I've missed. I read articles I've been holding off. This Sunday has been no different. I've lined up my to-do list in my head, and the first thing on that list is put off getting started on my to-do list. My laundry is waiting. A shower is waiting. I've only gone downstairs to grab an awful lunch. I'm playin' games with a box of Ferrero Rocher that I coulda sworn I brought up here to use as stand for...I can't recall. I've had 3. I've had 3 more. Half the box is gone. I coulda sworn I don't like chocolate. But half the box is gone. 

My brother has been sleeping on my couch for several weeks now. He's slappin' his music through the new sound system that Xavier and I agreed to go splitsies on. I never paid my half. Splitsies just means he got it this time with the senseless purchases and I'll get the next. Splitsies is a functional system that contributes solely on the whims of our extravagant and self-indulgent consumption (which is most of them). I think Blithe might have a good taste in music. But I can't tell because I don't listen to music. Anymore. In fact, I've been trying to play something from my iPod just so I could be listening to something...but it's several feet too far away for me to care and the old iPod on my side table drawer is dead and ancient. The only sounds in my bedroom are the ticks of a clock I stole from work, a cawing out my window, and my brother's potentially good music taste permeating through the cracks of my door. 

It's a quiet Sunday. 

every time i leave my parents house, i look out my windows and see my dogs sitting at the front door, wagging their tails at the sight of me. 

i still cry driving away. 

my heart is so tender

and i'd say that this was an embarrassing admission

but it's not, and i miss them all the time. 

can't explain it. and i'm not sure how to express it or how to relate to someone else about it. maybe if my sister moved out too she'd get it. 

but for now, i quietly think of them as i continue to go on with my days. 

and maybe a tear or two will escape while i work through the mundane. 

can't imagine how i'd cope as a parent. 

i said i wouldn't disappear. i've talked about how of all the types of people, i wouldn't be like them and disappear. 

but i think that maybe

it's ok to disappear.

i have shit to do.