Sometimes

On days like this, where I was too scared to stay at home all day by myself, I would go to the Art museum. The Art museum in Raleigh is free, easy to get to, and has ample parking. Their selection of pieces isn't nearly as amazing as it could or should be, but the other three factors I mentioned cancel that fact out. It was somewhere to go to get away from the gloom hanging in the house, thick with my fuck-ups. I can't go to the Art museum here in Seattle when I feel like that - it costs $15 to get in, and then another $15 to park my car somewhere where I won't get raped. I hate how expensive it is, how everything is, it's isolating.
I don't want to complain. The volcano is beautiful, the air is fresh, and the Sound reminds me of New England. But so far, the only people I've met have scared me - and I'm usually not scared of anything without red eyes or eight legs. After ten years in the South, I can't get over how cold it is here - I always have a shiver, my teeth are always chattering, but - oh, hold on, I'm watching an episode of "Law & Order: SVU" and there is a fight club. A real fight club consisting of New York cabbies, and one betting all his fighting money on his step son whom he makes fight to 'earn his keep'. It's so bad, it's almost good. But, enough of that.
I can't get over how lost I feel sometimes. Somedays, I feel like I've fell down a rabbit hole. Sometimes I am at a happy tea party and I can't stop laughing. Other times, I'm alone in the woods and I can hear something eating in the dark. and he wonders why I can't move sometimes.