I spent my day researching again. I had stayed up all night last night and looked about on information of an old story comprised of three volumes, perhaps even four due to translated copies for other countries. To my demise, it has never reached America, thus it is quite difficult. It is hard even to find it second handed. It came out in the seventies though, so that adds on to my hard search. Foreign and from the seventies – boy I am interested in the hard to obtain things. Nevertheless, I always have found searching a hobby.

To my happiness, I found episodes based on the story. It is comprised of thirty-nine. I was able to find subtitled versions of the last four episodes, which you cannot even buy from English subbing distributors. I mainly cared for the ending, thus there is content.

Heh. I am becoming more feminine it seems. This observation is due to my easiness to succumb to tears when moved. Well, not tears, but watery eyes. It is a beautiful feeling.

Along with that, I have also discovered that I am easily inspired. Whenever I read, watch or endure something that pulls at my heartstrings… I have a joy that fills my heart and I feel wonderfully content as though on a natural high. I experienced that today often.

One of the reasons to my high was reading something Kyle wrote in his journal. He seemed happy. In fact, the way he talked actually reminded me of how I was before the move…. Hope for the future and peace with the past. I laugh when the thought stops abruptly when I think of how he was the very person who shattered that for a while and caused me to be fearful and wish to hide again.

There is additional information as well… due to recent events he had undergone something perhaps similar to what I went through before my transition – two days of pain due to relations with another. I do not think we went in the same order though, cycle wise. Seeing such causes me to wonder if human life really is so easily ordered… then again, I will just blame it on my old connection theory.

For transition, my thoughts soon drifted to Denise, a good friend of my younger years. She had been absent from my life for some years and before that absence, there had been tension. In the few conversations we have shared since after my move… I found a swelling pride fill my chest from how much she had grown up. Yes, I sound like an old person, but… I suppose I always have been such a way.

Intellectually and observatory abilities had been high in my share… or so people tell me for some odd reason. I however was quite suppressed in maturing emotionally. Either way, I always had felt old when around my friends, minus Kyle, I suppose. With Brooke and Denise, I felt like a parent with two quarreling kids. Trying, annoying, fun and memorable it was, nevertheless.

When I think of such things, I remember my dreams from the past. I am not certain if I ever really had outlandish ones when younger… Perhaps as a fanciful elementary child, I had such dreams, but I cannot remember that far.

My first one was to keep my closest of friends past schooling years. I found that improbable, however. People move on and lose contact. Well, those who had impacted my life the most, which means few, are still in contact with me. Not all are, but some are. So far, that dream seems to be carrying out. Here is hope for its future.

The second was to find someone I could connect with deeply and be able to keep the friendship going. It is a half and half I suppose when thinking on it amusedly. I have found those in transitioning periods of my life. We never did stay remarkably close as we had in the beginning, but we still know the other is there and there is a quiet understanding that I believe will always linger.

One that has been held deep in my heart though would be to find someone to share my life with… to live my life with and live his or hers with. To be frank, I am not talking about a lover or whatever such nonsense. Okay, it is not drivel, I suppose, but it is not a priority high on my list. I do not know if it ever will be either.

I remember my friends ask about dating. I remember seeing them dating. I remember hearing about them dating. I know who had sex and what period of his or her life it has been. I remember witnessing heartaches, anger and highs. I consider love a beautiful thing. It can be painful, but it is truly a beautiful thing. I just never cared to look for the sort I see others look for.

I have never cared about dating, for sex or to find someone to wed/bond with. I will never quite understand why though. I muse sometimes if it is because I am so used to being one who lives in a sort of solitude. A “sort” because I do not feel lonely. Perhaps I did when younger, but… something about growing up, listening, watching and experiencing… I am content.

I have been living down here for just a month and a half from what I surmise. I live in a structure that lacks structure and can do it with no worries since I am in this world and not the outside world. I suppose I always will be one to lack awareness of the outside. I am quite… misplaced beyond my private ways. Despite that, I have become utterly content now.

From around sixth grade until my ending of my second college semester I had always been stressed, tired, worried and perhaps unhappy. I found my joys, as I have only simple needs for pleasure, on occasion to occasion… The ups and downs, the whole shah-bang. After moving, though… I smile at the thought of how I am now.

I am told my brow has ceased knotting and I smile more… that I truly look happy. Truthfully, I am. I can actually say that I am happy… and for once, it does not bother me. That only makes me smile more. I have the simple life that perhaps has always been a dream I held since even a kindergartener. Yes, even back then I lacked the simplicity and calmness I possess now.

I had panic attacks back in my elementary years… perhaps even as far back as to first grade. I had always handled stress terribly and often would be discouraged, I believe. I always have a fondness for joking that my sister is to blame nowadays when perhaps five years earlier from this day I would has sobbed it out with deep meaning and pain. I had three years of emotional hell in middle school and began cutting along with breaking down. I found out then what panic attacks were and those were what I had suffered from often since young age. High school was the final layer of the cake. I had more breakdowns, deeper cutting, and despair with the wish to die when at my bleakest of moments…

Now I am here.

I thought earlier, when tending to the laundry that I felt a soft gratefulness that Kyle had called that night those few years ago. I never would have found this feeling… Heh, I never would have met Eileen or Erin either. I cannot help but find that amusing.

Either way, it is tonight I remembered that dream of living a simple life. I had forgotten it apparently. It came to me though when I was coming back to this very room before I started typing this. I do not remember who I had told the dream to, for I know I told someone, but it was a beautiful vision…

A languid day, the house is shadowy, in a calming way. The setting sun’s rays cascade delicately through the windows. I am sitting on a kitchen table and gaze outside. I am at peace… and it is beautiful.

I stepped outside earlier in the day… perhaps near the lunch hour and sat down in a chair under the “patio” that leads to the small yard. I was merely letting the dog out, but decided to rest there since he usually wants back in when I am in the opposite side of the house. I lounged there for some minutes and found myself singing. It reminded me of childhood.

As said, I am the type who keeps to oneself. When younger I just needed a swing and I would be content. I remember spending all recess swinging and singing to myself. It never occurred to me that those playing below could hear me as I sang my heart out. Simply put, it really ruffled me one day when a boy sat down in a swing beside me and told me to sing. I chuckle at that.

I think… I think I am somewhat reverting. I am becoming simpler. I just wonder how long this will last…

… and that of course reminds me of a song that could perhaps be called my theme.

…’Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away again…

 

The feeling I received from that seems to be with me now… and it is wonderful.

Oh… and I need a haircut.

~The Vampire Sheep Who is One with the Duck