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Been writing a lot more. Less filtered things on paper. Helps unclutter my thoughts and make some sense of the madness. To update – I’ve made appointments and travel plans. Most of midterms are over!! Most. Now, I just got to worry about community health projects and writing proposals. Clinic requirements are a mile long, and apparently, I’m barely on the first lap. It never ends.

I’ve been back on track and making life fulfilling in the most reclusive way. The only way I liked since I can recall. Handwriting letters that I never send out, and scrapbooking old movie stubs and random novelties from memorable nights. The other half is spending it in my car finding good fuel for the soul. I toured around my books and movies and shows with a mix of menage a trois wine and conversations.

I have spent years in a city so big that felt so small - so small that the air supply is enough only during the time you sleep. And losing myself in time itself and not knowing which day it is or laughing between streets and corner bookstores. For some reason, you’ll meet people who you let inside for the seconds of the day that are gone just as fast. I am now only in the comfort of being in a quiet place and drowning out noises of bikes, cars, and arguments - the patter of the shower, the baths to self indulge in. And yet, I want more.

I want more.