Occupying and existing inside strangers’ empty spaces. They can tune me out pretty easily. Just another among the familiar fuzzy faces. It all gets comfortable fairly quickly. Read right through me. Room looks gloomy. Misread interactions. Forgotten reactions. Understand me on a certain level. Just pretend this means something special. Before I go I need some closure. Sometimes adventures aren’t adventures, until they’re over.
Andrew/Borger/Writes 