whenever i go under my bed i find buried treasure

literally

today while attempting to find a lost sneaker i came across a box of my old journals, some completely filled and some abandoned when i didnt like the path the entries began taking. i read through the one that has always been my favorite, light blue with a poem etched on the front and a lock that could be opened by any human with at least 1 working finger. as i sifted through the journal i saw it covered in horrible handwriting and pages upon pages of entries dedicated to joe lugo, my crush at the time. but one little block of orange writing stuck out from the rest...

may 23, 1996

i can see into the future. in about 40 years i will be your stereotypical old cat lady, struck by senility, cloaked in mismatched floral print clothing, with approximately 20 feline friends leaving fur all over my 1 room apartment overlooking abandoned railroad tracks, with weeds and dead flowers reaching in every which way desparately trying to escape. but when they escape, i will still be left behind

once a cat lover, always a cat lover

i was 9 years old...

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