The cat’s purr is a comforting sound, a rumbling that resonates deep in her chest. Its comforting vibrations trickle into my skin and into my lungs, wrapping so closely around my heart that I forget I need to breathe.

The sky these days are clearer, brighter, and softer. It blossoms with many colors like a forgetful artist clumsily dragging his brush over a soft blue canvas, leaving rough marks and bristle lines wherever he goes.

No longer do I stay in the room, trapped and tortured by my own mind. Perhaps I have taken the advice given to me two weeks ago, about how I am resistant to change which is what brought me my sorrow to begin with.

Whenever I walk back, a cat seems to always be halfway there to greet me. She meows at the sight of me, purring and rubbing her forehead against my arm. She demands much attention from me, clawing at the air for my arm to make a bridge so that she can climb onto my shoulders. She stands there, just watching, and then once again demands that I scratch her head.

I think it is true, what people say about animals being able to detect your emotions. I think her support, whether she means it to be or not, has helped me.

If not that, something has helped, definitely.

I go out more and more nowadays. I try to immerse myself with others, be happy that I am there, and finally accept that humans are social creatures and one mustn’t deny their base instincts. If my base instinct requires me to befriend others and talk to others and socialize with others, I cannot go against it.

It is unhealthy, I think someone told me, to keep everything to yourself.

I wasn’t necessarily feeling up to everything. A lot has happened in the beginning of March and the days leading up to it, as well as the days after. It won’t be an easy time and I am not one for heartwarming conversations to begin with. I don’t like talking to other people about my feelings, which is why I write them instead. I don’t want a response, really. I just want to say it and then my heart feels lighter and my shoulders less burdened.

Rain has come to haunt me these past two days. Little clouds carrying water that is annoying to walk in, but not necessarily so heavy that you need to stay in.

Not all is well in my life and the sea isn’t at its calmest. I didn’t expect it to be, but it is less hectic than it first started out. There are still a few things I need to deal with, or not deal with, if I want to be completely free, but I’m not sure if I should.

I think, for now, it is better if I just stay where I am and try and forget about the rest.

As the end of term quickly approaches (actually almost less than two months left), I am reminded of the amount of assignments that are due. It is giving me a bit of stress, since I just feel like I found my footing in the academic year, but I think I can handle it. I just need a few hours a day allocated to just doing my work.

I have met some fine people and they are all nice to me. I make myself go to public places every day. Although I have been stuck in a writing limbo in a while, on and off with no real results, I feel a lot better than before.

Maybe the fresh air is working, or maybe just connecting to others helped me.

Things could always be better but I like the way it is now.

Yeah. Things are good. They’re good.