Sep 8.

9/8/2025 7:53. Correspondence 24

It becomes difficult to write about the deeper, darker, and sadder topics of my time here when I know my family reads these words. Maybe it shouldn't be that way; maybe that's a reflection of me and the guards I put around myself. In truth, the biggest fear and shortcoming I have about being vulnerable is not some fear my masculinity will crack or that it will make me seem weak. No. My shortcoming is that I will make others sad. And I don't want that. That's the last thing I want.  That's why it's so hard to describe my not-so-good weekend and my not-so-perfect mental state that accompanied it. So I apologize if I make anyone sad. The world is not full of misery. Read my other entry about wonder and curiosity, and kindness to see that. This entry, however, is a personal account of my mind and fear.

I've been listening to music a lot recently. 

I've been feeling weird. 

Those two always seem to follow each other. Songs lead to introspection and reflection, and nothing good when it comes to myself. Introspection leads to a dissociation with myself. It leads me to question the fundamentals of myself that usually anchor me. Introspection makes me cynical about life and society, and big pictures. It makes me a bit cold and detached from social situations. I lose that "spark". I turn from a Bill Watterson to a Kurt Vonnegut. It's an odd but noticeable transformation that many who know me have surely noticed by could not put into words. I know this about myself now. I see it. I feel it. A strange movement of mood and soul. Don't worry, though. It seems to be cyclical. Laughter will come easily again soon. I think I just need some semblance of true and genuine hope. Some big win I event I can be proud of or rally behind. 

That will surely come. I know it so. I just have to keep my eyes open 

Until then, a poem: 

Crisis of self, a pitiful thing 

A mirror hangs, and nothing is seen

The fastest sprinters of the mind

Deliver letters that are most unkind

Questions appear, never spoken aloud 

Affecting one more than should be allowed

Becoming so deeply lost.

I realize this all might come off as some mopey, pretentious teen who is super cringy and unbearable. Granted, that all might be true. But on the other hand, this is basically my diary, and you are reading it. I don't know what you expect. 

I can't write much more now, although I honestly want to, for I have to go to the second meeting of the fencing club.

See you tomorrow, dear reader,

Calvin Landreth