a corn kernel's contemplations

Every time before I travel, I feel obliged to deep clean my room. This feat usually takes a full day, sometimes even into the night. It's not an unrelenting spree of cleaning, but rather prolonged periods of procrastination in between each task. The current one at hand are dishes. I don't want to do the dishes because they'll make my hands itchy or my nails fall off. If I wear gloves, they'll smell like rubber for the next three business days. Thankfully, no one will be smelling my hands (i think) in the next three business days.  For this Thanksgiving break, I have made two incredibly impulsive decisions. 1. To drive to LA on a two day notice, for the vibes(?) and 2. To fly to fucking Hungary for a week. I don't think I gave Thanksgiving break any thought until this week arrived, and I am so unbelievably excited for both of these events. Thank god I didn't make these plans earlier, or I would not have been able to focus for weeks on end.  I also think as a chil...

  It's been quite a while since I have allowed myself to be nostalgic. I feel like it's a healthy feeling, but as I grow older, there are quite literally *more* parts of my life to reconcile. I constantly feel like I leave  certain parts of me behind in favor of picking up new parts of me, which is growth, but at the same time I feel like I always am missing core parts of myself that I do not want to be replaced.  I feel strongly about this especially with regards to art. I constantly forget that I have this skill I've spent years fostering and nurturing, only to never use it in daily life...like ever? Not even as a hobby anymore? Somehow other trendy things like crocheting, reading, and even this blog (although I think this is a healthy(?) alternative to journaling, which I welcome) have replaced this once crucial pillar in my life.  I think I often forget how pivotal of a role art has played in my life. I spent almost every day after school from 8th to 11th grade s...