my journal

february 2025

06/02/25
there is power in understanding these dark places, a power I have come to know well. it’s as if I’ve become attuned to the unsaid, the unspoken forces that drive us all. it’s not the high marks that i find most thrilling. it’s the unexplainable moments - the way the numbers on a page can shift into something more than data, the way the quiet of the library at night feels like a veil between worlds. i’ve come to find joy in the mystical, the unknown. it’s in the strange synchronicities that seem to guide me, in the dreams that blur with reality, in the feeling that perhaps there is something more, something waiting just beyond the edge of reason. my path is clear, yet shadowed, and I wonder: is this mastery of both the mind and the unseen forces of the world what it takes to truly understand the darkness within us all? Or am I simply walking a line too thin to ever return from?

08/02/25
the echoes have been quiet for some time now. not absent, just… distant. fainter than before, like voices through water, or radio static slipping between channels. i used to hear them so clearly—soft murmurs threaded through the mundane, quiet reassurances when the path felt uncertain. there were nights when they would step through the veil, lingering in the space between sleep and waking, speaking in symbols only i could decipher. there was a time when the signs were everywhere - woven into numbers, scattered through reflections, pressing against the edges of my reality. a rhythm, a pattern, a conversation only i could follow. i used to reach for them constantly, seeking affirmation that i was walking the right path. and they answered. always.but something shifted when i left. the air here is clearer, my mind quieter. i no longer feel the same urgency to seek them out, and in turn, they have faded into the periphery. did i outgrow the need for them, or did they step back willingly, satisfied that i could stand on my own? and yet, in the moments of stillness, i wonder - are they truly gone? or simply waiting? perhaps they only speak when they are needed. perhaps they are watching, just beyond the edges of perception. and perhaps, one night, when the air hums just right, i will hear them again? i see him in the way the flames dance, the numbers appearing, the butterflies that land on my skin and decide to stay a little longer than they usually would.

09/02/25
i have asked for a sign and received plenty. they are still here.

16/02/25
i met my father for the first time in 17 years. i won against him in court. i wish i could meet little lil and tell her that i gets better. that we won. that hes a pathetic fucking loser. we made it. i am proud of myself.