When your brain is broken, space and time warp around you. At my usual breakfast place there are only two tables where I won’t be anxious; all others are too claustrophobic, or too “on display”. My event horizon stretches moments into an endless wait.
Bix dot Blog
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
No fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.