Today is my father’s birthday. My dad, as it were—the one I grew up with calling that. I generally try to denote these people but let’s say at this point the maternal end of things is undone and in knots and not easy to resolve because of my own welling distrust of really anyone but Don. I want to think I am a more evolved person but nothing for us has been easy and at this point, any ease achieved I feel has to be mightily protected. I rarely leave the house and have been playing put this in my shopping cart with the grocery store over the past few days. My joy is only in food as that right now brings me the only demarcation of anything new happening. I can make something that makes me feel pretty damn accomplished, you know, cooking at all. Sometimes I look for the recipe I want and modify it, but sometimes I am just looking for something focused around an ingredient. I make really fucking great food now and there was a time I really didn’t. Thank the food prep boxes and some of my own interests in not sucking that way got me around some ignorance I had before.

Oh there is food in here and will be a lot of it. But–I plan on being more deliberate in my endeavors since he is trying to save money and my life just became another burden. What did I make this week, Chicken with dill in a cream sauce over spaghetti one night, pasta puttanesca another, and last night fried pork and zucchini over rice with a ginger garlic sauce, and another turmeric cumin roasted cauliflower soup I made. The other nights I kinda wanted to die before I once again rediscovered the beauty that is fucking marijuana.

I couldn’t do much to help us aside from boil some eggs in the instant pot that night—I will tell you what, being in a place where I didn’t have this outlet wouldn’t be a place I would want to be in. I feel for you who are just sitting there in pain without a safer outlet. The only reason I haven’t given up this time again is yeah-haven’t done those few things I mentioned I would and I definitely have this little help. Haven’t lived my sweet Netherlands life, haven’t achieved much aside from a full evolution in NYC–something I would not trade for anything. The normal achievements I am not going to attain but the ones for me, for us, for what we can do. HUGE. But right now the shit I am smoking is making everything seem alright, my leg is kinda vibrating in the background—but, fuck it all. I am good. I tried to be the holy one who was above it all, but I am but a mere human who can’t stand feeling like shit for that long in one stretch of time so…so I smoke.

….The gummies I am not sold on yet, but I gotta isolate those with the dosing to know either way. They’re just bitter candy right now.