My transit card history tells me that I’ve not seen anything but my own neighborhood in fifty-eight days, and just the act of typing that out has sparked a mild anxiety event.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
Rules: no fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
My transit card history tells me that I’ve not seen anything but my own neighborhood in fifty-eight days, and just the act of typing that out has sparked a mild anxiety event.