365

jan.1.22

Hello, dear reader! Here's the first post of 365!

Day one of a whole new year. How scary is that?? Especially after the year we just had!

First off, it's probably reasonable to start with an introduction: my name is Hannah Ryser, but my pen name is Montague. As much as people hate Romeo and Juliet because of its basic-ness about two teens jumping to conclusions after falling in love, I admire the small details and beauty about how they loved so passionately and unconditionally, like their world was nothing without the other.

And also, I'd most likely be a Montague boy if I were in the story. Which is probably the simpler reason behind my pen name.

I'm currently twenty four years old, with my birthday being October thirteenth. I have a nine to five job that pays the bills, but I don't see myself staying there all my life. But that's an existential crisis for another day.

I like to write, read, draw, do crafty things. I used to be a part of a local theatre group in Prince George, BC called Street Spirits, and I miss it every single day because for a solid six years, it was my life. So, it's more painful now that it's "over" – more accurately, it's lost in limbo. But, I'll probably talk about Street Spirits more on another day. It'll probably be a Thursday.

I live with my family still, which I guess looks bad, but I really don't care. I have three older brothers, and two of them have autism – which is something that a lot of people don't understand well. We live in the middle of nowhere, out of city limits. But it's a little chunk of heaven to me.

We have over fifty chickens, two different varieties – the older ones are jet black birds, and when the sun touches their feathers, they shine with shades of blue and green and violet. They're the older group of chickens. The second group – the younger ones – stared off being white little fluffs when they were chicks, but have gotten brown and blond feathers as they aged. They're happier than the black birds, but the black birds are older – I imagine them resembling grumpy old women: sitting and judging everything.

We also have pigs – eleven of them – and they like to break fence a lot because they're very adventurous. They're cute and like a good belly rub. But also destructive.

Inside the house, we have six cats and a dog, that of which thinks she's also a big cat. The dog – Flower – likes walking on tables and sitting on laps, but she's a black border collie. She thinks she's the best cat.

I had lived in Prince George for two months back in 2016, which were the worst two months of my life – again, a story for another time – but in my time living there, it has solidified my love for living amongst trees and fields. Out of the noise and exhaust fumes, sirens and half drunken screams too early in the morning. Out here, it's calm, relaxing. Hearing the birds chirp their disorganized songs make me smile.

And honestly, that's mostly it. I think that's a good intro. If I think of anything else, it'll be another day's worth of writing.

Thank you, dear reader, for sticking with me in this writing journey. My plan is to write every day. There's no trend, or set path, as to what each day will consist of. Whatever pops into my head will be what's written. Could be long, or short, or all over the place.

There is no other rules, but the one: I must write something every day.

Until tomorrow, have a wonderful day. And Happy New Year.