Jan. 9th, 2023

When Lydia sang, she was glowing. Maybe it was my eyes tired from the white glow of the TV screen, but I swear it was God. I want to be able to move people the way she moved me. With her words, her power, and her music.

She is an interesting spirit that I'd like to get to know better this year.

---

I tend to get bored of people fast. At first, I'm captivated by them and like the constant attention; then, one small thing throws me off, and I suddenly lose all interest at once and stop caring.

This time, it was their mentioning of my bio-- I hate repeating the story now because it just represents my impulsivity and recklessness. Now I'm not really interested in talking with them, not that it really matters anyway.

---

His name was Micheal Angelo, like the painter. He sat a few seats in front of me, a seat that would soon be empty. I asked Mr. V if I could change seats after it happened.

He always wore these really colorful basketball shoes. I wanted to compliment him once, but I never did. But he was remembered for his colorful and eclectic socks, which I never noticed.

After he died, I put his initials in my Instagram bio even though I don't think I spoke to him once. He was just a kid in my English class, one of the few white kids that seemed to be an anomaly for an Honors class.

I cried at the ceremony the school held when I learned he had a brother. I thought about what it would be like if my sister died, and I couldn't imagine the pain.

I go to school with his best friend now, who basically had to give his eulogy at high school graduation. He sat next to me, and I wanted to extend a gesture, but I wasn't sure what to do, since I also never spoke to him.

I'm reminded of him when I look at the weird bookmark of his name and picture they passed out to all of us that I put up on my wall. I wonder how his brother is doing now. I wonder what his parents are doing, and I wonder how jv feels about it all these years later.

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