Am having one of the days wherein one feels the entrance to it must be some sort of narrow crack of an alleyway requiring a cramped sideways shimmy; all scraping claustrophobia with no actual guarantee there’s an opening at the end. My skin doesn’t fit my innards properly.
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.