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April was the first month ever I haven't wormed, since September 2020. I told myself that it was good the other day, that I was probably living my experiences and attempting to create a better life instead of worrying about aestheticizing it, but now, low, it seems more that worming was some sort of catharsis, a form of meaning-making, a beacon of hope when other things seem grim. a shout into the void, if you will...all of march I was sick. I still went out. Ella visited, we celebrated st. Joseph's day, we went skiing. April was alright. we celebrated holi, I went to New Orleans. last week I went to party after dark at cal academy, worked the CE gala, saw and met amor satyr and siu mata, and went to ketki's wedding, all in three days. Jason and I have been fighting a lot, it's not very fun, and not very inspiring.
I downloaded papa's music yesterday from his computer - mom was able to remember the password. going through it just now I came across a couple songs he recorded of himself singing. I hadn't heard his voice in over 6 years.
in bed yesterday I repeated to myself - 'you will not make me feel small.' not you, not you, not you. I told Catherine I was microaggressed at the wedding. it is my burden as a woman of color to always think of others, and not myself. I resist that. my resist is a form of protest. let him chase me, when he has done wrong. I am tired, and I deserve the very best.
Hannah is visiting this week, and nick. I think they will be good people to forget with.
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