I’ve played the ‘nothing is real’ game with myself so often it became a defining characteristic. Yesterday, Tuesday May 3rd, I adopted a cat despite my parents strict disapproval, my roommates allergies, my lack of preparation, and other valid external reasons against getting a cat. All those reasons - don’t exist to me. So I dismissed them and bought the most perfect cat. His name is Cashew, and he is a real, live, breathing thing. I sobbed while watching my new companion explore my room. I could not fathom the realness of it all. And in that moment, Cashew grounded me back to life, because I truly haven’t been there this entire time.

The Rock Plot, 3/25/23 My Saturday morning was spent in a plot of undeveloped land off the highway, a mile from the Christiansburg Solid Waste Authority. The unappealing view from the main road in combination with the wimpy ‘POSTED NO TRESPASSING’ signs act as a protective barrier to the land from people. Luckily I recognize an empty threat, the only change I’ve witnessed in the past two years is through the harsh tall grass that scratches my legs. The Rock Plot radiates neglect, the destructive land-clearing process has ripped through the dirts’ surface, eliminating any natural obstacles. It’s land that has been altered into capital, shaved down and monetized by square footage, dreading to be utilized. This is exactly what makes the spot ideal for activities that aren’t socially acceptable on any typical field, i.e., scream-running, rock chucking, hole digging, ugly crying, journaling, dancing. Today I’ll be attempting a less stimulating approach to cope with existing, that being walking meditation.

It's only 9am and crowds of people are flooding downtown. Downtown is a generous word to describe the stretch of Main Street which consists of maybe 3 or 4 blocks of local attractions. Must be the biggest weekend of the year: college students occupying each corner in festive colors, drunk and happy. Families piling outside the limited options of restaurants, waiting to be tipsy and entertained. Cars inch down Main, bumper to bumper. Even the police are here to direct stop and goes, and to later patrol the drunk population from getting too rowdy.