Improvement

Until around the middle of last month I'd been isolating for...well over a year. I didn't really see a point to making any attempts at The Social, given my "track record". But this seems different. Legitimate. I'm still awkward...still strange. I flounder...try to grasp at the "rules". It seems to be working for me. Add a NOS to the equation? Even better!!! Caffeine makes me more talkative. That's a plus of sorts. I mean...as long as I don't ramble on about snakes or longboards or...whatever. Anyway, more legit. More like what I assume this sort of thing should be. Not just people calling when something goes wrong to seek comfort (which isn't the issue) and then ignoring me for months or years at a time after they have gotten what they wanted (which is the issue). Not ignoring my texts or bullshitting me about how busy they are ( and then hanging out with the other mysteriously "busy" mutual friend). Or maybe that is normal and I am experiencing something abnormal right now. If that's the case, God damn I love the abnormal.

I held a ferret yesterday. The only animal with fur that I am not allergic to. They smell weird. Not bad, just weird. I like them. They are cool little creatures. Curious. Totally in your face. Literally. Sniffing your nose.

I saw a room that screamed (insert person's name here). I have always wanted a room like that. A room that screams (my name here) and bleeds (my personality). I've never had that. My rooms have always looked like what they were. They looked like either my mother or my grandmother was in charge of them. And they were. I would ask for posters. Paint. Knick-knacks. No dice. Seeing her room made something in me ache. I want that. I NEED that. A place that is for me. Somewhere to belong. Somewhere that makes it OBVIOUS that I am the one that is there. Even when I had my own room, I wasn't allowed to have that. Do most people have that? Maybe she is the exception rather than the rule. In any case...I would love that.

Oh. She gave me a pogo stick. A mother fucking pogo stick. I love shit like that. Swinging, spinning, bouncing. I LIVE for that. Pogo stick, man. A fucking pogo stick. I bounced for an hour today. I would have bounced longer...but I'm not really used to that giant ball of fire out there. What is that thing called? A son? Whose son?? In any case, it's fucking bright and hot. I don't really go outside much. But...damn. Between the longboard and the pogo stick...I may be getting very well acquainted with that ball of fire and gas soon.