i was good for a while. i thought. a while turns out to be a week and a half or something scant like that. i don't know what happens. i just plummet. i want to run. to run until my lungs burn and my eyes sting with wind and dirt, until my legs won't hold me anymore. really run. nothing metaphorical. i would if i had anywhere to do it, anywhere secret and alone. this city with all its people and its places isn't much for open escape. but we can all hide under the night and dingy neon, lost among the millions, stars distanced and smothered in the smog and lights of the sprawling city. i want something open and beautiful and pulsing. i just don't know what that is or where to find it. i avoid questions of how i am how things are how life is with indirect answers or sarcastic humor. nothing's horribly wrong, i see that. but something's not quite right and i can't set it right.