Back in the theater again. I have a lot to do, but this is starting to get really fun. I’m excited to see The Blob in a few hours—maybe Rein will want to watch it with me. Being back out in the world after a few days of feeling sick and sore reminds me how lucky life can be. My little yes/no coin keeps coming up “me,” which feels like a good sign.

I feel less worried about what’s coming the more my memories return. Remembering where I’ve been gives me confidence that I’m on the right path. Right now, it’s mostly about me and mine. I care about the legacy I’ll leave for my kids and the life I’ll lead before returning to the ether one day. My recent efforts are aimed at getting to those more meaningful, exciting places—but in the meantime, I’m thrilled to live life differently, and I’m still thrilled to be back in Santa Fe.

Every time I come here, I admire the linoleum floors and their intricate patterns, imagining how to make them shiny again. I even think a hand buffer could work in my room. There’s a sense of possibility in that thought—a hint that I might be moving forward soon. My mind dances with the stories I’ve loved for years, from the Beastly series to Sandman. It’s special to see these worlds come to life, interwoven with my own experiences on this earth.

Brain-dumping like this is a small pleasure, a release from routines that can feel endless. I’m sad about how mental health has been portrayed recently, but it reminds me of the commonalities we share. I’m excited for more writing, more video games, and more joy. Plans are forming: queer meet-ups with Rein next week, discovering what’s around the corner, and settling into a lighter, dreamlike state. The thrill of the unknown keeps me up at night, but the pull of self-sabotage is fading.

Watching the world through our current lenses is exhilarating. I can’t wait to vote for the first female president of the United States—someone who embodies the diversity and ideals of our country. I feel more like a world citizen, seeing vibrancy and possibility in every corner. Santa Fe feels alive again, and I’m ready to embrace its community. Memories may be patchy, but every moment feels more vivid than the last. I can’t wait to get home to Rein tonight and hear from Ronnie, whose voice always brings joy.

The excitement is electric—I can almost feel it shooting from my fingertips. The people here are extraordinary, and I’m so grateful to be surrounded by such warmth and generosity.