As I write this, I’m sipping a Sir Davis Old Fashioned and daydreaming about peak-season heirloom tomatoes. Doesn’t that sound yum, lovey? I could write an entire blog about my love for heirloom tomatoes—my 34th birthday was even tomato-themed.

Isn’t it wild that I’m 34?

Truthfully, I’m still somewhere back in 2023.

I’m still processing what happened to me in 2023…and 2024.

It started subtly—like a spark I didn’t notice had caught fire. At first, it felt like my mind was opening up, like I’d unlocked something extraordinary. Colors became louder, brighter, more alive. But not just any colors—orange, green and blue. They were everywhere: in the sky, in signs, in my own thoughts. It wasn’t just a coincidence to me; it was a code, a message the universe was begging me to decipher.

There are nights when the quiet in my room feels heavier than usual. It’s not depression—not anymore. I’ve worked hard to leave that behind: therapy, medication, leaning on support systems, and the strange, often difficult work of confronting my own mind. I’ve fought battles I once thought were impossible to win.

Hi lovey. It’s so good to see you back again. How long has it been? It seems like a mighty long time. Time united us with poetic grace, only to part us with cruel indifference. I think about that a lot. Do you?