I dreaded doing things for my grandma; I found no reward, no sense of accomplishment, or joy of any sort. That is horrible. I woke up one night and remembered what she had done for me. The effort and time she put into cooking and organizing. She doesn't remember the work she did, but I do and it's sad that I failed to repay the favors. It's not too late. I'm gonna fucking make it up to her while there's time.

Man, so many relatives gave me money after the house fire. I kept a list of names and numbers but I haven't formally thanked them. I feel like making some awesome food and giving it to the people who gave me money.

The shelter was a nice, safe place for neglected or abused kids. Maybe I should visit and donate.

My dad sucks. there's no solution to him. just anger, frustration, and anger. He says "all the lawyer wants is my money!", I say "I've been fucking telling you that for years. You should've gotten a district attorney", he says "yeah! I know! he just wants my money!". He has all day to do something useful but he doesn't.

I might die or be disfigured sometime soon. Not a reassuring thought, but it's spurring. I'll get hit by a car, fall off my bicycle, get a disease, be assaulted, who knows. Before that happens, I'd like to actually make some meaningful artwork that inspires, informs, or moves people. I have no idea if I am capable of such creations, but it doesnt hurt to try. Screw artwork that purely entertains. The world has more than enough of that.

I rode on a bicycle for 25 seconds yesterday and I loved it. I can't wait to rebuild my bicycle.