I am a summer rain drop pierced by sunbeams

Earlier on the way to the supermarket I saw Yellow the Stray Outdoor Cat with his sister whom I call The Other Cat. The two were huddled together in front of the building with their fur parents (the mum was a white/orange tabby and the dad was one white/gray/black Herculean fella, really stronk and handsome) and weren't exactly frightened by my presence, which pleasantly surprised me because Yellow used to flounce back into the shadows like, literally, whenever I approach him.

Anyway! While the furballs were hashing out their master plan for world domination and enslaving the whole human race, I took the chance to sneak back into the building and grab some cat food to feed them, and you guys, why does cat food smell so fishy and strange? Not that it's a problem or anything, I don't think it has ever been a problem for any catmums/catdads out there, just that I had to continue my supermarket journey with a fish-smelling right hand is all. Greasy, too.

Maybe I can deter them from taking over the world, after all. :DDDDDD

My honey, D, has been asleep the whole day after taking his first dose of AstraZeneca vaccine yesterday, so I didn't get to re-watch Mary Poppins Returns with him (he fell asleep halfway through the bloody movie). I think I'll just nag him like an old lady next week since he's feeling a bit sick right now as if, I quote, he'd done some really tedious "upper body workout", end quote. I hope he feels better soon. A, on the other hand, has been really sad and devastated over her dysfunctional family. She told me her brother had run away temporarily, I guess to "think" or "clear his head", I don't know. Probably. We had a little chit-chat about mental health (like genetic mental disorders or something) as usual to get her mind off things. Oh, universe! I, too, get really, and I say really, frustrated and mad whenever I hear people bicker over petty matters. I understand her. You can't just "not listen and care" when you can hear both your parents swearing through the thin walls. Conflicts are normal in a relationship, and I don't object to the concept of fighting-in-front-of-your-kids so long as it's fair and respectful because parents are supposed to be their kid's models for relationships, resolving conflicts, EVERYTHING! Violence can be psychologically damaging, you textureless dickheads! And the fiddler always gets paid!

I grew up in a household devoid of affection - my parents never said "I love you" to each other or anything equally affectionate, my dad was never there for mum emotionally, was never there for me emotionally despite claiming he "loved me more than mum" or what-fucking-ever, he used to be a raging alcoholic who relied on his kid to pull him off the shitty road before getting run over by a fucking car because he hated us and his life (or at least what kid-me recorded in her unreliable noggin), he only provided the bare essentials and would bring it up every time I rebelled and acted out. I fucking resent him, but I also feel extremely spoiled, guilty, I don't know, maybe typical or entitled because I've been super lucky with the things I've been able to afford so far. Like, I get what I want, you know? My soul knows very well that hurting me isn't one of their intentions. I told them I wanted an electric guitar, I got it. I told them I needed a laptop, I got it. A phone? Got it. So why should I even complain, right? Ugh. My mum isn't blame-free either. She completely glossed over the fact that I tried stabbing myself with a kitchen knife when I was 12 or 13 and instead, delivered a bullshit speech about how I wouldn't die instantly and it would hurt and that I should be more careful, think twice before doing something, think about how others would feel, how she would feel, how selfish it would be because they're already doing everything they can to give me a great quality of life. She glossed over the fact that I was self-harming at the age of 13 and instead, repeated the old bullshit speech and told me to "show my scars to see if my classmates would be proud". But I don't have a great quality of life. If anything, I am an angsty, insecure, probably mentally unstable teen who compulsively lies to everyone and is stuck in a suck-ful pandemic. It really makes me jealous to see other people with greatly emphatic and soulful relationships with their parents where they don't have to hide their vulnerabilities.

Yikes, well. At least it doesn't always suck to be with them, I guess?

LOLOL! I just had to throw all this somewhere, I didn't mean to go on a tangent about my crappy childhood. It's been bothering me lately, and A's experience with her family reminded me of my own. She also told me how she gets all weird and awkward when it comes to the concept of being intimate and tender, which is not entirely unexpected considering her experience. You understand, right? I'm comforted to know that she's actively trying to salvage herself, she just needs a little support, that's why I'm here for her. :DDDDD I think I'm the best person to approach about this since I've also been trying to be the exact opposite of my parents (I wanna throw in that saying that felt very illegal and weird because I'm not really a fan of antagonising other people, especially my parents - I know it's really not their intention to alienate me, and I kind of see where they're coming from, so I'm still very open to understanding them as long as they're ready to put in the effort to my program called The dickhead-nator: The Most Anti-dickhead Program to Ever Exist. If not, then I'm never coming back once I set foot in Canada). I'm just sad and lonely that I don't have any tangible relationship with them, I have no idea about their interests, their skills, their hobbies, what they love to do, their youthful years, what their heart is passionate about, literally all the things a kid should know about their parents. Maybe it's because I'm also not trying to know them. I'm definitely not blame-free, LOL. I don't know.

I long for the day when I'm finally in a meadow dotted with dandelions and spring bulbs, when I'm finally okay, finally in the arms of someone I dearly care for and love, finally no longer afraid of anything. I live to dream, be kind, and love. These are the things I think are worth living for. <3!

More soon! :DDD High-key vibing to my honey's playlist. What a lovely bastard ♥______♥!

Edit: If you're wondering why I set the title to 'nacho cheez, i guess?', it's 'cos I was eating cheesy nacho chips whilst writing. Nothing to be concerned about, hehe :P!

I remember watching this animated film called Spirited Away a couple of years back, and I also remember feeling overwhelmingly weird and confused and sad. I don't know, all right! I've vague montages of that old Pinocchio lady and that Dora boy who helped the main character get back to her family. But that's all. That's why I'm re-watching it, although I've got a little special furry guest. I'm gonna be re-watching it with my baby, Bleu! :D

Be back soon! Pretty excited. xoxo