Day One, More Like Round One

Oh, where do I begin.

Well, I woke up with the bright idea to eat some Chana Masala that I picked up from a nice sale, along with some spicy sardines from Galicia, Spain. Despite the fact that I was almost late for my shift, it was rather a nice experience. God, the Chana Masala was good. The spices were just right and hit my taste buds perfectly. Where have you been all of my life? Everything is usually over-seasoned or under-seasoned whenever I eat, but not this dish.

I went about my shift as usual. There weren't many customers today, so the day was smoother than butter.

On my way to the local library, I encountered three important topics: myself, my friends, and my answers. I was having some trouble with my blog design. I had forgotten that food makes me feel sleepy and mistook it for brain fog, but with a bit of patience, I continued on in my search with whatever I had. My identity. A design that reflects me and what I like.

You see, even though I've been alive for so long, I've had the issue of learning how to express myself. Expression of oneself wasn't encouraged without manipulation growing up. I decided to simply let out what's already inside of me.

Luckily, through the memory of Pickles the Galaxy Destroyerrr and their helpful encouragement from last night, I managed to find a clue. What a helpful buddy. Many breaks later—and an appearance crisis from watching Face IQ—I eventually made a new friend: Asto Warren.

He seemed like a pretty friendly guy. Just like me, he wished to explore others, including himself. We hit it off pretty well, at least from my end. He's kind and authentic. He ended up liking my blog so much that he became my first commenter! Ahhh! I'm still excited.

After our chat, I met something terrifying.

Someone who forced me to see what I'm still prone to. Her name is Uwana. She was kind enough to help me out with my design. A fast talker she is, yet kind and swift in the mind. With her, I had finally put myself out there after so long.

I've never been much of a talker to others for several reasons. But I decided to give it a try with her. I sucked badly, in my opinion. I felt so awkward, and my anxiety was rising. I was scared. The longer we spoke, the more she gave her input and talked about herself. I forced myself to keep my eyes on her and engage. As much as I wanted to run, I couldn't. I already started my journey in life—getting to know others, making new things—so what if my first real encounter failed?

Luckily, she didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable I was. I honestly didn't wish to make her uncomfortable at all. We spoke about the different library locations and events. She was even kind enough to show me where the locations are on the library website. I'm going to have so much fun with that.

But that encounter made me realize that, much like Alex Cisse, I was forced to confront something within myself. Something I hadn't had to deal with deeply for a long time.

Myself.

Here I was, trying to run or ignore my thoughts when, in the face of my own determination, there was nowhere to run. There was only to feel. So what left to do now then to keep confronting? Keep learning and exploring? It's what I wanted to do aftercall. It's what I've always wanted. I don't want to be in my comfort zone anymore.