Prompt Expansions

01. Right now, I'm inspired by my partner's work and stories, my ability to beat the odds and get things done, the strength of my fellow trans peers and those who came before me, the anime I enjoyed in my youth, and the way the characters I write have taken on lives of their own in my mind. Things around me in the city that inspire me are the people who offer me seats on the bus and trains, the fascinating bits of conversation I pick up on when walking past people, the variety of colors in the pigeons I see, the creativity of the street art and stickers placed on almost every surface, and the relief I feel when I look out the window and see sunny skies.

02. When I think about being alone, I think about being lost. I have a lot of trouble navigating new places, and the chaos of New York streets only makes the problem worse. During the first few weeks of the semester, I went to Blick to get all of my supplies for my classes. I went on my own, even though I knew it wasn't a good idea, because my partner and my friends were busy and I couldn't find anyone to go with me. I shopped for a few hours, the baskets of supplies in my arms growing heavier as the price tag of my haul grew larger. The fatigue hit before I even left the store, and as I stumbled onto the sidewalk I realized that I couldn't recall my way home through the mental fog. People shot me looks of pity and confusion as they passed, but none stopped to assist me. I felt truly alone, even on a crowded corner of Sixth Avenue.

03. Never underestimate the bond between a miserable preteen and their emo band of choice. During my preteen years, as the beginning of puberty, undiagnosed mental illness and general insanity of growing up ravaged my mental health, I discovered My Chemical Romance. The allure was instant -- their sound was something entirely new to me. I had no idea music could even sound like that! As they sang things like “I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone”, I realized that I felt seen.

04. To fully listen, one must not only hear what is being said, but truly try to analyze and comprehend it. When you're not actively listening, words just go in one ear and out the other without really being committed to memory, which can lead to problems especially in learning contexts. As an artist, listening is an incredibly valuable tool. Through listening, both to people you're directly conversing with and to the world around you, you can gather inspiration and perspectives to include in your work that you may not have been exposed to otherwise.

Personal Narrative First Draft

It didn't go all at once. It never does -- it's not some dramatic moment of panic like in stories. It's more of a slow decline, almost too slow to notice; it's a VHS tape degrading into fuzz upon use after use. Were it able to think, would a VHS tape be aware of its own degradation? Would it fear the loss of all it once held? I couldn't tell you. All I knew was [forgot what went here]

I've always had trouble with recall; that much was nothing new. What was new was the brain fog, the failures of understanding. Words stopped coming as easily. The block in my mind felt physical, a creeping tension behind my eyes that made me nauseous. My mind was an under-moved limb wasting away to atrophy, and all I was doing was watching it happen -- what else could I do? I didn't know how to articulate what was happening to me, and the guiding figures in my life viewed my decline as a consequence of simple laziness.

My parents took it particularly hard. We had countless spats, throwing barbed words at each other as if we weren't on the same side, trying to unravel the issue together.

Elaborate more everywhere. Add more

How to describe not remembering? Chunks of my life being gone + feeling like waking up after months if not years of not being present. Remaining memories dreamlike and unverifiable without making myself look insane. Veering away from original topic of language but this is a story I want to tell anyways so hopefully that’s fine/excusable?

Delve into dissociative disorder diagnosis maybe? Impact of fragmentation on language & comprehension? Inability to remain consistent in work?

Even worse was the shame. I was 18 years old, meant to be in my mental prime; why couldn't I just think? Where had my words gone? Asking for help felt too embarrassing, and I just let myself sink into depression. My grades suffered. I stopped going to class altogether. Eventually, I had to drop out -- I couldn't salvage the year with the amount I missed. My only saving grace was that withdrawing on medical leave meant my records were expunged, and I could start again with a clean slate if I was ever ready again.

Spoken word aspect ideas: clip of static playing on projector as I speak layering over my face? Possibly problematic if anyone is photosensitive – should ask first