I'm exhausted, and feeling hopeless again.
I've spent the past couple weeks trying to gather the scattered fuckery which is the fabric of my life,, and while I still don't have my ID card, or a working phone,, everything else is falling into place a bit.
Slangin weed to the college kids paid my rent this month, and hopefully in September I can finally get some health insurance. I got into this art scholarship I applied for, it's a 3 month program, and that will pay for my rent& half of utilities (yay stipends) and I'll get $600 towards supplies for my final project.
They're supposed to help w a Bart pass too. Anyways. Life's been ok despite feeling shotty. Feeling ever grateful for the pals at Spooky, and to Chloe, for well, more than I really care to type at 2am. Chloe and I dated for a while back when I was still living in Corona. She invited me to move to the bay with her and spooky back in 2020, and I declined, mostly because I was trying to move out to Boston to be with Remy,, but also because I was losing my shit and scared of everything (thx m3th/quittingmydreamjob/goingoffhormones/imjustfuckingcrazy).
Anyways, the point of this ramble is that things are okay, I miss my loved ones terribly, though I always feel they're better off without me in their life, and not in the angsty unalive myself kinda way, but in that I'm still unpacking my shit and generally have a hard time connecting with anyone genuinely. meh.
Been tryna play music,, but I ain't got no confidence or anyone to really share it with,, so, idk.
Still clean, and I think that might be one of the most bittersweet parts about this. I wish I could point fingers at the cause of this depression but it's pretty much just, me, n mourning all the friendships i fucked up by being toxic.
I'm so scared of being shit, that now I don't let anyone in. And it's killing me inside, slowly.