May 28th, 2025 - I finished "We Could be Rats"

Are we born incomplete; only partial products until we find those with our missing pieces? I find more often than not those pieces are always attached to others.

I dragged my own cadaver from my bed. I dressed it in clothes it liked and let it slump into the drivers seat. Late again. I let it make its way to work after picking up pastries for a catering. At some point my soul and body found each other and I spent most of the day preparing for tomorrow’s meal. Today was Caribbean and the two Jamaicans killed it, the food was so good.

I had to go to the bank still, I parked my car opened up Insta and I saw my friends. Pictures of them. Smiles. I miss them.

Fuck you, fuck you and die. Kill yourself. Why am I taking all of this misplaced misery upon myself? Why should I shoulder your sins any longer? The blame was equal but heaven knows the damage was not. More than a year later and I’m still picking up the pieces, all of my greatest fears have come true and you’re not here to help me see them through. I’m so angry and sad and miserable! I saw those pictures and I wish I was with you. Was I so disposable? I’m so scared of being forgotten and it isn’t even unreasonable. I had always thought it a possibility, I never thought it would happen. Just put the bullet through my brain, I’m tired. I don’t want to fight anymore. Just let me die.

—— nap ——-

When I got home I immediately fell asleep. That wasn’t the plan, it never is. I hate naps. When I was younger- oh god I make myself sound old. A couple of years ago whenever I took naps it would hurt my brain. I would awaken thinking it was the next day. My stomach would gurgle and lurch like a monster unfed. My head would ache like thunder had made me its home. Today when I woke up from my naps I jumped into the novel I’ve been putting off for weeks. “We could be Rats” I love it so much. But I hate sitting down to read, I hate making time for such a beloved hobby of mine.

I finished it. It made me think of a bunch of things I wanted to write about.

My Lola is not doing well. She lives in what is supposed to be our dining room. I don’t know if it ever was. I remember it being my playroom, then it was my cousins bedroom, and now it’s hers. She lives in squalor and filth. The smell of urine and the buzz of flies are a depressing constant in her life. I need to fix this. I think maybe this weekend I should- what? Do I clean her room? Her house? I’ve done that so many times, I’ve made small improvements to areas of the home. And a week later it’s twice as bad. My family home is a hydra. A hydra of filth and trash, I am a lowly adventurer who has been fighting for years, I have won so many battles against it but it has never fallen.

Even when my Lola lit the house on fire it still came back. Twice as bad. I should help her; even if it’s meaningless. I should spend time with her, save her even if it’s from herself. I’m not a hero I think I just feel guilty if I do nothing.

—

I wrote my cousin a letter. She lives in B.C and I don’t see her anymore. Maybe I never really saw her too much anyway, but when I did I loved it. She invited me and my other cousin over for holidays, it especially helped when last year when I lost all my friends.

We went over for Halloween, we ate… I don’t remember, I think sushi? We watched shitty horror movies and my cousin and I fell asleep on the couch.

Nene, my older cousin, wanted to play Nintendo games but I think I remember my younger cousin, Nico, and I playing some PS5 Co-op game. I hope she was okay with that.

So I wrote her a letter, and I’m yet to receive one back. I’m okay with that, I know she’s hella busy planning one of the most momentous days of her life. She’s getting married and she always text about how stressful it is. I wonder if I could help her in some way.

I wrote about my problems. As many as I could think of, I don’t even remember what I said but I remember getting incredibly heavy and personal, I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before. Are we those kind of cousins? She’s basically my sister, but even then are we those kind of siblings? I hope so, I need help.

None of my other cousins talk to me about their personal lives, I don’t think it’s a slight on me but how am I to be sure? I want them to tell me everything. I want to help. I want them to help me. I wanna be open and honest and really close with them. Our parents were like that. We always hear stories about everything the Tito’s and Tita’s did at our age. I think we live boring lived comparatively.

—

I should really go back to school, having people with shared problems and being able to work through solutions with them would fix me I think. I’m so broken, I need help. I need people with similar hobbies and interests and goals. That was an issue with my friends, none of us shared a common goal. We all had relatively similar interests and we all liked each others company, but none of us had that desire, that hunger towards something, and those of us who did never had the same one.

If I was in school for English or music everyone there would want similar goals, I could team up and make my life easier, hopefully make theirs too.

I barely remember college, there’s a fog in my memory from those days. But I remember my favourite classroom. It was this auditorium kinda like 2/3s of a circle. It had all these long curved desks with ports for laptops. I don’t remember the professor or the class. Whenever I read stories with classrooms I think of that one.

—

My coworker is trying to set me up with the new girl. It isn’t subtle. I don’t think I’m ready to date. I don’t even know who I am? How could someone like me, I don’t like me. And she’s nice. The new girl seems so sweet, she has a nice smile, laugh and voice. It’d be so weird to imagine hate spewing from her mouth. Like lava spilling out a candy cane.

My coworker was asking such heavy questions about the future. I can’t date. Life is easier alone. I need to have solo adventures and kiss people while I’m single I can’t be going around falling in love an shii. It’d ruin my cool guy persona.