The first time I remember eating a pomegranate was with my friend Eowyn. It was a special treat at Christmas and we each got half. I’d looked forward to it all day even though we had to eat it at the table so we didn’t make a mess. It was like a treasure hunt to find all the seeds. I’ve loved them ever since.

That aliens were taking over the world, it started slowly but we were weak and they were powerful. But then they turned life in to a game, and you had to be good to get points, and every one of us needed a certain number of points if we wanted to stay alive. There were little counters in our pockets that had our number of points and the projected number we were capable of getting. It was sink or swim together. They tore apart our universe so we would have to rebuild it, and they put in place rules to make us build it better. We built homes together, and communities were like families, everyone had to share and contribute. Greed was overpowered by fear.

A funny detail: I often dream that I’m a different person then I am, and in the beginning of this dream I was a guy, he discovered the invasion, he had the first counter etc. But he was not really me. I was myself later on though. Not just my feelings or my personality or one part of myself combined with a mish mash of other attributes, but my very wholest self. It was then that I discovered what we had to do, that life was like a game, a game focused on being good and team work, and effort and equality.

Dreams are my favourite part of sleep, and this is the best one I’ve had in a long time. I felt so good after sleepingi a bit longer, but often it is dreams that determine my mood of a day, so I just know today is going to be productive.

Madness

A bomb is buried in the center of my heart
I’m set on self destroy
And they did it

Acid is running through my veins
Boiling the blood in my brain
My skin is searing hot to the touch
Sweat is running in to my eyes

I wonder if the last breaths of a murdered man
Are as shaky
As the breaths of his murder before the deed is done.

Why me?
Why don’t they care?
What did I do wrong?

They through me in the cage,
But I tossed away the key,
I gave them the power.

Now the tears come
Icy cold, silky smooth droplets mix with my sweat.

Hot and cold.

Violent sobs scrape through my defiantly pursed lips
I strangle my own cries.
Afraid,
Because they forgot to tell me I’m ok.

Sometimes I feel like crying when anyone is sweet or sincere or tender towards me. They’re the smallest moments, probably seen as inconsequential from the outside. But it’s like this poem I wrote when I was sad and lonely and confused. The last line was “you forgot to tell me I’m okay.” but now I’ve been told. Maybe it shouldn’t matter so much, what someone tells me, and I’ve always tried to say it doesn’t, but thats not entirely true. No matter how stubbornly I refuse to change to fit in, to attempt to fit in, I still want to sometimes. I felt so alone for a while, it was like I was starving, starving, starving. I was afraid to answer questions in class even when I knew them because I thought my voice would sound weird, that someone would pounce and tell me to get out. And I rationalized, I said they wouldn’t, but the truth was that it wasn’t rational, they weren’t rational and they tried to beat me down anyways. And sometimes when it hits me that things are different now and I can’t help but sob, because there isn’t anything wrong with me, not like they tried to convince me there was. Sometimes I wish I had done this a long time ago, tried something new, anything, but then I think about how I struggled and where that brought me, and I’m glad that things are the way they are now, and I know that changing the path would change the destination too and I don’t want that. And I’m okay. Thank you.