June 2, 2026
I’m feeling incredibly torn tonight. Do I stay here, living and eventually dying in Las Vegas, or do I pack up and disappear to a beach in Mexico? I honestly don't know anymore.
There is a profound comfort in the sanctuary I’ve built here. The quiet, the solid gray walls, the predictable, low-stimulation environment I've carefully curated—it keeps me grounded. My routines, my space, taking care of Nala—it all roots me to this place. Leaving would upend everything I've structured.
Yet, the idea of Mexico is a siren song. Sometimes, my only real goal is just to simply exist—perhaps even be lucky enough to find someone to love and exist right next to. Could I find that quiet peace listening to the ocean instead of the hum of the desert?
Las Vegas is safe because it's known, but it can feel heavy. The beach represents the unknown, a blank slate, a total escape. I need to figure out if I'm genuinely looking for a new home, or just searching for a place to finally let my guard down and breathe.
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