the KA blog

I wanted to start a blog. No particular reason- just needed a place to dump my thoughts into the void, without the knowledge of people seeing it or not. I've got a lot going on a minimal people to talk to.

STARTING 06/11/26

Blog updates will appear at the top. Scrolling down will get you to older blogs. General CONTENT WARNINGS include discussions of mental health, experiences with AUD (alcohol use disorder), potential mentions of childhood trauma.

06/11/26

Today, I started doing this blogging thing here. I've never done it before. I've tried doing things similar to journaling in notebooks and on the internet. It never worked. One of the biggest things that prevented me from doing this was two things- tiring out my wrist with writing, and the ability to see who likes and views my posts on social media. Both of these things had me stumped. Additionally, most places on the internet have things other to do than post. Here, you make your own purposes. You are in control of what is capable on your own site and what shows up. I liked the sound of that. So, here I am. I'm still figuring this thing out. I was alive during the time of MySpace and such, but was nowhere nearly conscious enough to be on the internet. I was a 2000s kid, sure, but I wasn't a 2000s teen. I'm new to coding. I honestly never thought I'd even touch this stuff, but here I am. I am wowed by what people can do with coding here, how all of it can come from one person and one understanding of code. I unfortunately do not have enough energy or intelligence to dedicate myself to things like that. I am here for one thing- to get out my feelings (as stupid as that sounds).

1 AM update... I went on a bottle run at midnight. Something I haven't gotten the chance to share with anyone is how serene i find it to walk around at night time. I love when its dark; the only source of light is the shops nearby. Chill wind that bites your hands and play with your hair. I love the feeling of being alone. No curfew, no nothing. All you're doing is walking around with your thoughts. I like walking around even without music. Hearing the buzz and silence of the area at midnight is incredibly peaceful. I couldnt love it more. I think there is an intrinsic desire to be alone and liberated when someone has spent all of their life enclosed. Growing up, I was policed. I only left the nest a few years ago and I hadn't started the processing my teenage years until now. It's an interesting feeling, being on your own. One that I personally love. Being in stores at midnight is pretty fun to me. I also just hate it when I'm low on alcohol. It's scary to me for some reason. I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight. I'll try cutting the wannabe poet act- my voacbulary is not big enough for me to sound cool. I swear my poems sound cooler and more deep than my blog posts...

06/12/26

Somehow, I ran into two friends today. They are both exes with one another. They were there at the same time, and I felt a bit awkward knowing that. They're both my friends, and they're both exes. Even though it's been a long time, I can see that when I spoke to my one friend (I'll speak more about this in a second), there is still a spark of saddness in her eyes when she (her ex-girlfriend) is mentioned. Anyways, I spoke to her nonetheless. We had a 2-hour conversation about politics. She ended up driving me back to my apartment, which was very nice of her. I find it so incredibly refreshing to talk about politics with someone who I know is not only coherent, but genuinely interested and involved with political activism. There was a point where we spoke about white queers that tend to only involve themselves with issues affecting them, such as homo/transphobia and abelism (because there is a big overlap with neurodivergency and queerness), but become uncomfortable discussing issues of race and classism. There was a point where I mentioned, "Every other branch of discrimination always comes to, and is rooted in, some kind of colonialism, racism, and/or classism," to which she looked at me and said, "God, I love you Kortez!" It was at this point where I remembered how refreshing it was to talk with someone on the same wavelength. A few years ago, I only had two friends. One of them didn't care for politics, and the other did. My one friend often boasted about his political views being extremely radical, woke, and far-left. A self-proclaimed anarchist, he was. However, when it came to conversations about things that didn't affect him, or the core values of anarchism, he was often speechless, uncomfortable, and admitting to being ill-informed. That kind of behavior, coming from him, always puzzled me deeply and left me upset. I had no one other than myself to talk about these issues. I would spend hours pacing around my house, talking to myself, all because he wouldn't talk to me. I never had anywhere to place my thoughts or discuss with someone in a way that could open my mind as well. The conversation I had with my friend today was one that had me experience not only a satisfaction I haven't had before, but also political growth! Despite my fianceé being well involved with politics, we don't speak of it often due to his quiet nature. My friend and I had a good chat, it was very enjoyable. At the start of our conversation, we spoke losely about alcholism. I have yet to inform her of my alcoholic nature, and it's very scary. As an alcohlic trying to recover, there is always a sense of absolute shame addmitting to your problems. It's shameful and scary. Revealing such a sensitive thing can lead to people's perception of you changing. It's horrifying to think about. I didn't want to tell her anything, so I acted like the mentions didn't affect me. I pretended like I didn't drink everyday, or that I hadn't been drinking that morning. I tried justifying myself in my mind for my actions. I don't know if I should tell her. Maybe I should? My therapist suggested speaking to a close friend, or my partner, about my issue. I'm afraid of doing such a thing. I joke about it with some of my friends, but they don't know it's serious. I'd prefer to keep it that way. It's almost like I don't want people to be aware, because I know that if they are, they'll try to help me. I want to fight this on my own- even if it's that much harder. It's fine... I'll get through it. Going back to politics, despite my shame for myself, I am atleast content knowing I am ashamed of something that I know shouldn't continue. I will never be ashamed of my identity, or who I am. I believe that loving oneself can be it's own kind of political resistance, when the world is telling you that you shouldn't exist. It's night time at the moment... I think I'll sleep this time.

Another 1 AM update... I saw a reel just a few minutes ago about yearning. It brought me mentally right back to a toxic relationship I had way before I had even met my current fianceé. Something about that yearning resonated with me. It took me back to that period of my life, and I felt a painful pang in my chest. The nostalgia hit me like a fucking truck. I hadn't thought about him in ages. I hate thinking about him. I had yearned so horribly and so strongly for someone I knew would never love me back. Everything was working in my odds- he was queer, he wanted a relationship, and I had been his best friend. Yet, it remained one-sided. Sometimes love is like that. No matter how likely, there's nothing forcing or marking someone to be in love with another. I regret ever letting myself be in love with him for that long. I had given up my own self-respect to satisfy him. God, what a fucking idiot I was. I hate him. I hate seeing his smile, or his face, or hearing his voice. Every now and then I see him in public. It's not hard to miss him with the color of his hair and the fact that he regularly visits my university. It makes my blood boil, for some reason. He treated me so horrible, and he barley cares. He doesn't see it the way I do. I see him around with his new friends. I bet he treats them better than he ever did to me. I'm so mad I never stood up for myself. That I never said something. I let him step all over me. The one fucking time I tried defending myself, he left me in the dust. He hung our relationship infront of my eyes with his hands like I was some fucking pathetic dog looking at a treat that I wanted. He fucked me up in ways I hadn't imagined. I was so hopelessly and despartely devoted to him that I lost myself along the way, and that, with the things he did to me in which I allowed, planted deeply ingrained fears and issues inside of me. Because of that relationship, I have been scarred with the fear of letting anyone into. I'm horrified of telling people my traumas because I'm afraid they will hate me for what I've been through and leave me for being sad or experiencing sadness. I once wrote a poem about him, venting my rage... and one venting my infatuation. Both were while I was in highschool.

Cotton
11/03/18
You fill me with cotton...
Sometimes I wonder
how I can breathe
when my chest,
my lungs,
my stomach...
are all full of cotton?

You laugh
and you giggle,
and you speak,
with my oxygen.
You are a thief.
You steal the air from me,
all the space in my torso,
and you fill it with cotton.

A touch to my arm,
or my thigh,
or my cheek,
when you exhale the air you stole from me onto my face,
or fog up the windows with it,
you eyes will trace my face and my figure
and fill them with cotton.

You never gave me butterflies,
you only gave me cotton.
Warm,hot, flushing cotton...And I love it.
I love you.
I wish that you never stop. maybe I can steal your air
and give you cotton.

C is not for Candy Floss or Cotton, it's for Confusion
08/04/19
You stole my oxygen
and you stole my cotton.
You stole my voice, and my vigor,
you stole my choice, and now
I am left transparent.
I am naked to your eye.
You see right through me and I allow it.
Slave to the crumbs of fluff you once left behind.
Now I am cold, and rotten.

I hate you.
But you still make me crumble.
Everything disintegrated in your memory
like candy floss.
I commit you to being left forgotten.

One day I will leave it.

Thank god I met my boyfriend-now-fianceé not too long afterwards. I love him so much. He is very good to me. I really needed to blow off some steam regarding that old situation... I feel so bad bringing it up to my fianceé. Not because we have any issues, but because I know it hurts him to see me wounded by things that have happened so long ago. That relationship ended in highschool, for goodness sake. It's been so many years. I don't know why I'm still so hung over it. Both of us were young and idiotic. I'm still young and idiotic. Heavy on the idiocy. He's so obviously moved on. I mean, I have, too. I wouldn't be getting fucking married if I still liked that scummy guy. I'm just... still regretful. Regretful that I didn't protect myself. I think I've said that enough times. I should focus on good things. Like my current relationship, cuz it's going pretty good. I'm even smiling right now thinking about my fianceé. It's so nice saying fianceé instead of boyfriend now. I make sure to tell everyone I meet that we're engaged. It's serious now. So glad neither him or I had any kind of committment issues. I can't deal with that kind of stuff... that's too much stress in my life. I need a drink!

06/19/26
I am going through some things at the moment. I'm uncomfortable in my skin and with myself in general. The one thing I want to do is waste away but I can't. I want to be a better person, but I don't want to change, really. I hate myself sometimes. That's how I'm feeling right now. I can always go to the people who love me, but they can't fix this. They can't fix the mess that I am or my dysfunctional family. I'm trying to avoid drinking today as yesterday was my third day doing so. It's really hard. I have to tell myself it's for my own good, that it's better for me. But it doesn't feel that way. I feel like shit. I miss my fianceé. He's spending the night with (his very functional and healthy) family and I miss him. I can't do this alone... Sometimes I wish he was more vulnerable with me. That's for another day...