Iāve loved Snoopy my whole life but became particularly fixated on him about four years ago. Since then it seems heās sort of become a hot item or something because I see him now more than ever. But even before that, Iād see him in the world around meāin a puddle on the ground or a cloud in the sky where he wasnāt etc, but also just his actual face all around me in the avatar of an obscure youtube channel when I stumbled on an old favorite jazz song or on a sticker on a streetlight pole where I just so happened to stop to do some Important Contemplating. Iām so Snoopybrained that honestly when I see an image of Snoopy my brain lights up the same way it does when I see a photo of myself. And others associate me so strongly now with Snoopy that they say the same is true for themāthat when they see a picture of him they think āhey, itās Jillā. I donāt really care much for them Peanuts kids Iām in it for the dog. I just feel like he has a certain joie de vivre that has really inspired me through the years and so gracefully weaves genuine nonchalance with sincerity. He is also not afraid to be a little bit of a hater and a stinker at times. When I lean against a wall hoping that it looks natural and uncalculated I am painfully aware that I am Joe Cool. And when I lock in (as I am occasionally wont to do) I am suddenly fighting my very own Red Baron. Am I a little bit autistic? Probably. But most importantly, if Snoopy has a million fans, then I am one of them. If Snoopy has ten fans, then I am one of them. If Snoopy has only one fan then that is me. And perhaps having read this, you too will join me in the ranks of Snoopyās fans.