Grandma's in a little box on the mantle
"Bulletproof' by Pierce the Veil
[I know—a wild departure from the stuff I normally listen to, but I was feeling nostalgic I guesS?? Idk why—I mean, it's not like I have good memories associated with this time period in my life (i.e. 8th grade lmao). But ya know. I guess I'm feeling... young, lately. Maybe I'm trying to cram the bits of adolescence I lost to depression into this measly summer. I hope that's not true.]
June 4, 2020 Thursday 5:04 AM
I think I'm going to try to stay up late. My sleep schedule has been pretty fucked—for the past several days I've woken up any time between 2 and 5 PM. Not great! I don't even really *like* getting up at noon, but my body seems to like the night hours the best. Maybe because they're so private, I'm drawn to them. Quiet. Cool. Stars, and then blue light. It's a good time to hunker down and focus. No need to eat, nothing. I dunno. It's nice.
Anyway, I've masturbated and now I have a burst of energy and joy. I feel good and smiley and happy, and I feel I could subsist on myself for the next forever. But then I remember that also I can't live alone in a bubble, disconnected from everything. Like Isaac. Isaac lives in his own, separate world; where he goes to work and goes home and drives around in the evenings, walks through the woods, looks at the trees, stares at the sky, draws, paints. It sounds like a good life, and it's great. But I think I would feel guilty.
Most days I have to steel myself to click on my social media apps because, as you probably know, there's been a movement as of late in response to the recent murder of George Floyd. I couldn't watch the video because it was horrifying. My mom watched it, but she can do that sort of thing. I remember she showed me a video of a protester in Nicaragua being shot in the head and I cried. I cried about George Floyd anyway, of course, because it was horrifying and because it feels like this started years ago with Trayvon Martin, although of course it has been going on for much longer than that. I've donated a good amount of money (probably totaled to more than $100ish dollars, which is probably 1/3 of my monthly income rn—although that's about to change, since I won't have work for a couple weeks) to a few different organizations (I accidentally donated twice to BLM but it felt weird to revoke one lmao, but whatever, I don't have anything else to spend my money on since I'm with my parents right now. Might as well give it to people who need it).
I went downtown today to pick up some india food we'd ordered for takeout. All the windows are boarded up on all the buildings because there is a protest on Sunday. They're afraid of looting.
Anyways, I've tried to post on social media too, but I don't know how to do that very well so I haven't been as vocal as other people. I'm doing the bare minimum to keep up on news, so I oughta do more about that. I wonder if the kids in New Visions 2020 (bio program I did in senior year of HS) are doing their daily news logs. Although I suppose their year is probably soon, if not already. Poster session usually happen in early June, but given the vibe of this year, I dunno.
Anyway, I want to do better. Not the best but not the worst. I don't know how much Isaac even knows about this stuff. I doubt he watches the news very much; I figure he must get his information by diffusion. He still calls COVID "the corona" which might be ironic, lol. And I dunno how much he knows about the safety protocol, or about how very fucking serious it is. I dunno, thinking about that stresses me out, because he is my friend and I like him and I always wonder whether it is my responsibility to educate him, and if it is, what if he doesn't react well?
I thought of my grandma the other day, because I've been feeling really spiritual lately (I think I mentioned this awhile ago), and she is kind of my go-to connection to the spiritual world. She was very educated on all of that kind of stuff, and after she died my aunt's friend—who is generally known by everyone in the family, and we call him Ed Just Ed (although I'm not sure if that's a name he likes to go by or if my dad just spoke it into existence by repeating the following a million times. "I know a guy. His name's Ed Just Ed. He introduced himself and said, "It's Ed, just Ed." or something like that. My dad does stuff like that. You mention a trigger word to him, like, I don't know, a car accident, and he'll say, "I got in a car accident once!" and then you hear that story again. Although I actually don't think that particular story is one he feels compelled to tell very often.)
Anyway, Ed Just Ed had a vision-type thing—although he claims he is not the spiritual type—that someone spoke to him and compelled him to take a photograph of this pool of water reflecting the sky somewhere in a park an hour or two outside of Livermore. Vision-Grandma said something like, "That's me." My Aunt seemed very affected by that story. I don't know if I was. I was crying a lot around then. I usually have a lot of problems with my Hippie Aunt, as I've documented in the past, but I remember wandering into the living room—either while we visited California just after she died this winter, or right before the memorial (which is just a more celebratory term for funeral; there was no body. Does there have to be a body for a funeral?). I saw my Hippie Aunt and I just felt like crying for some reason so I did and she hugged me. I was so confused. I kept crying. I knew it was supposed to be normal that I was crying, because my grandma had just died, but I felt like I didn't really deserve to cry because of the weird, distant relationship we had. I knew my grandma best through stories, better than I knew her in person. It felt like I only got one good conversation with her before she had her stroke. That was way back in 2016. That still makes me sad, because it was the first time I wasn't afraid of her. She liked Claire de Lune a lot and I've been thinking about that lately, too.
I had a conversation with my grandpa today. I had a dream about him recently, and then when I didn't respond to that dream my mind forced a dream of my Hippie Aunt, although the latter was not very pleasant. She was heckling me. Then last night my Grandpa said he got a call from me, but when he tried to call back he got a whole different person (I suspect he put in the wrong area code). Anyway, he ended up calling the house and we talked for a few minutes. I told him about my dream and he said, "I have a very unscientific idea," and it was about how he thought there was some psychic occurrences in the world, and maybe it had to do with quantum entanglement, which he said he knew very little about (I'm pretty sure he was a chemist but he's been retired for years). Just a little theory he said. Granpa cited a dream in which he knew a couple days before it occurred that one of his family members in El Salvador was going to die. I've heard of stuff like that before.
I miss my grandpa. It was nice talking to him. I oughta talk to Aunt Julie. I want some tips on meditating, which is something I want to try, too.
I don't actually think I'm psychic, but I kinda think I'm psychic. This summer has been generally very lovely. I am a little upset, that it is going to end and I am going to have to go back to school. I've never wanted to graduate so bad, lol. Part of me wonders if I should apply to graduate with a Literary Arts degree in December instead of June. I know I could, technically, but that wouldn't make a lot of sense—I wouldn't have a job and I'd still have a lease in Providence. So. But I might be able to work remotely on something, or become a freelance writer, or some shit like that. But I would miss out on Advanced Russian. I dunno, maybe I don't even deserve Advanced Russian, I'm so mediocre at it, lmao. But I'm going to try and fix that this summer. I want to get back into learning this summer; just having fun.
Ah, seems Isaac is awake. He's the kind of person that wakes up with the light. Ugh I wish I was a morning person.
I feel so, so okay.