I don’t really have ones. I buy good shoes, I guess, and comfortable non-underwire bras. I really don’t know.

The possibilities that it holds.

So, for the sake of harmony, I’m able to let most things go. I’m bad at anger. Really bad. So… yeah. Mostly anything except being a hate-mongering human.

Crocheting. That’s about it.

I find little things romantic. A brush of a hand across my head or shoulder, a quick squish of a hug just because.

Flowers, of course. I love flowers and think them a grand, romantic gesture.

Survival. The death of our country at the hands of a piss-poor business man who wants to destroy basic human decency for fun.

Only dental extractions. That’s it. I’ve got all my original parts still. No cybernetic, artificial, or otherwise not self-grown bits in me.

Nothing wrong with it, but I’m leery of surgery because I’m fat and afraid that medical professionals’ blatant fatphobia may kill me if they ever try to operate on me.

Look, I’ll be honest: I’m struggling to survive in this capitalist hellscape. I’m going to keep living as best I’m able and that’s about it right now.

I don’t know. Genuinely, so many of my memories are tinged with sorrow.

But I’d have to say, when I do enjoy food with positive memories, peanut butter mochi is among them.