I didn't ask for melancholy when someone else decided that I should exist. There was no humour in it. I don't wish it upon myself that the music of nostalgia and sadness strike me so deeply. Other music does too, but there is a comfort in the nostalgic pieces. Tragedy too. For some reason I think there is the most beauty in it. Not horrid, terrible deaths, or depression or anything of that sort, but the ironic and beautiful. Life changing experiences that are tragic. I don't know why I like tragedy though.

I gave her my password to try to create trust. I dated her to try to fall in love. I committed to keep myself from failing. None of it really worked. There are no real fail-safes. You just have to stick to what you know.

On my first day of training, Trent walked me out. Then he said "We'll see you tomorrow" like he really was going to, and really I knew he actually had tomorrow off. It was like him and the rest of the supervisors all belonged to this brain in the attic and were part of a single being with no world outside of mine. And when one of them was supposed to see me tomorrow, they all did. This collective "we." It was weird, but there was something safe about it. I like work a lot I guess because the most ambitious person there goes to UW. They're all so impressed and always want to talk about NY. And it's temporary. I know I'm leaving and they do too, so it's easy. I think they all expect that I will come back year after year to work there. And perhaps I will. I just may.

I'm clearly not over you