c:

Once, I was alone

Don’t give it control over you; don’t let it overpower you.

It’s been 29 years. Here’s to another 29, this time filled with

happiness, and contentment with what I can’t control, with what we can’t influence. 

No more emptiness, no more translucent shapes materializing into the air.

They were pinkish and yellowish, semitransparent.

Sifting through old pictures is depressing:

drifting through the house and being unsure of the future is uncomfortable. 

It’s the best thing when friends come together for company and human touch, and nothing more. 

The warm lightbulb to the left of me from where I’m lying down on the couch is

yellowy-orange. My mom took out the cloth covering that was surrounding it; the naked bulb is 

much more welcoming than the complete lamp. And it makes sense in the living room, it goes with the earthy colors

and wooden interior of the space. It’s a small living room, profoundly normal. 

-the last phrase, “profoundly normal,” is from the film of the same name.