13122024

Friday the 13th. When I was really young, it was always a noteworthy occasion: some odd mixture of childish fixation and genuine superstitious unease. I still take note of it to this day, even if I don’t outright admit it. I’d like to say it’s habit, but I have to be honest, some part of me still holds on to that old creeping feeling.

I’ve been feeling a lot better lately. I feel pretty happy actually: I feel like I’ve finally settled into a pace and way of life I find both satisfying and meaningful. I’ve been feeling pretty motivated lately to work on a bunch of different stuff: I started getting back into working with 3D stuff again in Breakpoint, and I’ve been getting a lot of writing and conceptual work done on the new project as well. I’ve been reading more as well, and I’ve even found myself taking pleasure in it from time to time. Nothing really feels forced or unnatural in any of this. That’s the thing: I just feel at peace. It’s the strangest thing.