Happy new years, self. This book will forever now be divided into a separate half. Not just as a new year begins (though i hope to complete this damned book by this year.) but as i feel i truly have turned a chapter within my waking life. i’ve crushed the illusions i’ve dreamed for years, see each day as a whole, no longer walls dessed comfortably though i truly enjoy those inside my home. my home with vincent, our cat, pudding. vorot or vohrot is playing live, one man singing, hming, and screaming into a mic standing on on what i have purchased for him. bass on shoulder, fingers strumming, he is himself. though once i say “namaste” to joke of his lower hms, he returns to fast paced strumming and screams.. silly musician. Pudding is either the most uncomfortable cat, stumbling while trotting throughout our condo, or fast asleep twindled in warm, soft blankets. possibly having nightmares of his previous way of living. my sweet, understanding, calm kitty who was left outside, beaten by a dog, hit by a car, and starved for two weeks, all after being a rescue cat…. i love him. he is not weak, he is my favorite.