Memories shift emotions

I could further along in the many subjects that have peaked my interest.

Japanese, sign language, baking, painting, craft, knitting, sewing, guitar, violin, voice acting, singing, dancing, drawing, writing.

I could be in a number of cities and places, in Canada or the states.

Alberta, Revelstoke, Tofino, Abbotsford, Seattle, Chilliwack, San Francisco, Michigan.

I could have graduated, on time, with my first highschool.

Not my fourth.

I could have gone to prom, with friends. Dated, gotten a job, my license, a car, a home.

Lived on track. Any track.

I could have a best friend. A group of them.

That loved me, truly.

I could have stayed.

But I fought back. I pushed and pushed and ended up alone. So many deep connections lost, because I too was lost.

I ran. It's what I'm best at.
Deflect. Ignore. Push.

There are many paths I could have taken. Many paths I now know were wrong. Many roads that led me stray, that helped me run.

In the end, I am here. A few leagues behind where I think I should be, but here none the less.

Finally making time to sit with my feelings, thoughts, memories. My flight response.

I've pushed and pushed and pushed. And it's coming back up. Time to sort through the why's, the darkness.

My past.


"And I won't ever let you go"

"Wait for me to come home."
I'm not home, right now.

Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul
And it's the only thing that I know, know
I swear it will get easier,
Remember that with every piece of you
Hm, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die


Let's start with some introductions.

Hi, I'm Toby. I'm 24, 25 in March. 
I'm a Non-Binary, Asexual.
Nice to meet you.

It's be a long journey, but here I sit, wiser and far more free than I've ever been. I was pushed. Torn. Hurt. Lost. Alone. Displaced. Uncomfortable to the point of breaking, in my own skin. So far into myself, that the darkness was warmth, the lost was normal. It's been a long journey, but here I sit.

It's been a long journey, but here I sit, smarter and far more calm that I've ever been. I was confused. Stupid. Mislead. Disconnected. Angry to the point of breaking, in my own skin. So far into myself, that the mental illnesses were warmth, the disassociation was normal. It's been a long journey, but here I sit.

It's been a long journey, but here, I sit. Ready to make the next steps towards the person I truly am, the person that needed time to bloom. 

It's been a long journey, but here I sit, today, alive, and fighting. 

It's been a long journey, but here is where I no longer sit, as these are my first steps into my next milestone. 

Hi, I'm Toby. I'm 24, 25 in March. I'm a Non-Binary, Asexual. And I am going to get top surgery, this year or next. These are my first steps. It's nice to meet you. 


Soft murmur, weak, but still beating.

You are heard.

Just when we were panicking,
 hope lost at the last life signs fading.

The planets terraforming just wasn't taking.

Monitors cease alarm mode, panic still set,
 a hush falls as breath catches,
a rhythmic pulse can now be heard.

You are heard.

"You met me at a strange point in my life," the letter begins "and while this was beneficial, (perhaps to both of us) it wasn't a point where I had solid footing. While I still think I'm not in the best place in life, I've had a long time to think of what I truly need, where I should be heading, the person I'd like to be when I get there, and what would help me get further to my goals of being content, mindful, and embracing love." The writer takes a sip of wine and lets out a long breath. "It's going to be quite the journey, but I believe I've got the training to get me started, (equipped a walking stick this time 'round.) And I'd like to have you be apart of that quest, at time we weren't the best for each other, but thq path I chose isn't straight and narrow, it wanders 'round like a drunken fellow, some days it's hard for me to follow, but if you've got my back I'll go on. If you've got my back I'll go on..."


Mal's Mix "Tape",

 [and some other things.]

Disk one,


I'm going to write a proper reply. You deserve so much more than these petty blog call outs. I'm going to rewrite you a proper reply, I'm sorry if it will take some time, but it's on it's way. I promise.

Snail mail, proper letter. I need to sit down and put my thoughts into words. A long talk does need to happen, but for now, please wait for my reply. Alot is happening right now which has delayed everything I've needed to get to, from sewing projects, to this.

Don't think I've brushed you completely off. Even though your number was blocked back then and still prevents messages coming through, I did hear the voice mail.

I understand it's been months, but thank you for waiting. I appreciate it.

Schrodinger's Gift Box

Life and death and love and peace and.
Happiness on the planet Earth.

My heart sank. I was expecting my Kickstarter dice set, but the box was much larger. Markings of my sister. However, your writing, your name, they got stuck in my throat like dusty summer air. I coughed.

Took off my glasses and tried to see something else on that label. 

There you were. 

I gawked. Slack jawed. It was truly from you, addressed to me. Time jump started and possiblities rushed to me. Was it a prank? Spring loaded with glitter? Bees? Naw, I'd enjoy those. "Fragile" and slightly heavy. What went through your mind on the way to the post office? Do you have snow out there?

How long has it really been?

What's in the box?

I'd be lying if I said I was surprised. Some how I knew snail mail would be our first contact after the distance. Only thing that seemed fitting. All that time apart, which felt like ages, blurred.

What's in the box. 

I thought about not opening it. I put it under the bed when I got home, tried not to think about it. If I didn't open it, everything might stay the same. If I do open it, everything might change. 

Both options had positive and negative sides. 

Am I ready?


Toby breathe, this is important.
Deep breath, comes a thought.


Clary Sage and Peppermint

And going a full half hour with out speaking.
The underwater levels are the worst.

You've reached out, asking to speak again after not very long. To be honest, I'm not sure what I should do. Yes I miss your companionship, but it seems like the bad out way the good. We are both toxic to one another. Perhaps in passing we will see each other again, at cons or on the tube. But I'm not good for you and you aren't the best for me. Maybe we just need to grow, and reassess what we need. Then touch back again? 

With you gone, I realize how I've alienated everyone that I could have called a friend. I've pushed myself away from my lovers, away from old lovers hoping to stay friends, from tubers, from everyone that reached out and extended a friendship offering.
At what point does being an introvert
 become harmful to my life
and mental stability?


On The Next...

Season Three, Episode Four

I am fine.

You asked for space, and I realised I needed some too.

My mind is all over the place.
My heart is all over the place.

My life is starting to ..

Please, know I'm here. But I need to be away.