It's the early evening in Portland, beautiful because it's calm and cool and mild, and I'm locked in an office of my own volition, quietly tapping keys in the dark because, once again, I've made that cyclical turn to the point at which I feel completely unattractive and unlovable, resenting every self-absorbed impulse that makes me feel completely fucking worthless. i have no words, only sounds that i need to quickly try to hammer out.
i'm alone, though.
i'm alone, though.