It is becoming more evident with each passing day that this channel will be available to people beyond just us in just a few weeks.

If they stumble and find their way here, do you think they'll read everything?

We said a lot. Oftentimes to each other, oftentimes to ourselves, oftentimes for the sake of saying something, anything.

I haven't heard your voice in a while.
I hope things are all well.
You moved out on your own recently.

That's a big step.

I still look up to you.
Send luck my way when you read this.

This has been an abysmal end to a whirlwind of a semester. I sit at my desk typing this a bit removed from myself. I have helped too many people and received too little aid in return. I'm not a selfish person. My aunt used to call me selfish when I was younger and it would eat at me pretty badly. I was nine or ten and I might have cursed at her in retaliation. I'm not sure, but I felt as if I had committed the greatest sin the way my mother disciplined me for it. In acknowledgment of these memories of my "selfishness", I have lost the ability to say "no," well not completely. "No" is frequent when I decline party invites and requests from friends who haven't seen me in forever and want to "catch up." I'm too focused on my work and in some ways I have to be. I'm an artist, right, to some degree I'm sure. I have a basic relationship with a pseudo-gallery that has caused me nothing but stress, and I make work, but never show it, because I'm at odds with the kind of goldfish-esc exposure linked to the internet and Instagram and everything else. The past few weeks I've spent way too much time helping others realize their visions because as I've said before, I'm not selfish, at least subjectively I think so. I haven't spent enough dedicated to helping me.

I was sexually taken advantage of by someone I considered a friend recently and it's been eating away at my brain.

bell hooks say that the only emotion boys exhibit that society acknowledges is anger, but I'm not angry, I'm confused.

It triggered old memories of similar situations that I thought I had forgotten. I guess I still haven't processed those events.

This was the first time I've come back to school happy as well, I can't pinpoint how many steps this has set me back, but I'm trying to stay strong despite everything.

It's eating away at my brain.

A "paraphrasal" from my last conversation with her:

She said something along the lines of "I didn't think it was wrong because boys are supposed to like it, right?"

"Sameolemeek" by knxwledge plays in my headphones as I type this.

This happened approximately 4 weeks into the Fall semester.