i just feel inextricably strange tonight. maybe the word is solitary. maybe it’s because the apartment across the hall is empty. maybe its because i feel like i can’t keep up in conversation, and then the words im typing can’t keep up with me. the whole thing – whatever it is, feels very fragile. sometimes when I feel like this, or the other night, when I half climbed half fell out of bed, partially drunk, partially hysterical full of dizzying thoughts, Iisit and watch the Fremont bridge from my apartment, across the city. seeing the diminished frequency of cars as they pass the upper and lower decks calms me, as though the whole city is falling asleep, or is feeling the same, or hopefully, not feeling the same at all. i dont know why this physical structure, with its two red lights blinking in perfect time makes me feel calm, or rights my mind. sometimes i pacify myself with cigarettes, but hate the ash they leave behind, burned out, hollowed out, smelling ugly. there is no music for this, no soundtrack, no epic ballads, just the strange sound of the heater turning itself on because I forgot a window open, as I fight for sleep, covered in quilts and comforters, but still shivering in the tangerine sheets of my bed.