something is wrong. i live in a place where people seem to like me. i know everyone by name, and - moreover - they know mine. they seem happy for me to be here. i can't remember the last time i thought someone might pull my trachea out of my nose, or get to work on my spine with a chisel.
i used to think i'd fallen off the map at some point. now i know i have. but the warm, fat, welcoming arms are smothering me, and i can't leave. i fear that i cannot be weaned from the insidious bosom. i am no longer afraid that things will be intolerable from here on in. i am petrified that they will be adequate.
