FOUR.
I've been numb all day. My apartment stinks of smoke, in a way that reminds me of the fire at my last apartment, except it's everywhere, as opposed to being able to walk away from the neighborhood and wash the destruction out of all my clothes.

I went down to help out, but there were a ton of volunteers. I fetched coffee for the workers, but there were a ton of other cooks, and I felt kind of sick.

This is freaking me out in a brand new way. All my clothes stink. Part of me needs a big ole hug, and part of me needs to get away from all humanity. I feel helpless, useless, uncomfortable in my own skin. I don't fear for my life. I fear the same things I always fear. Death before my time, irrelevance, apathy.

Nothing good is going to be written tonight, certainly not by me. I have other work to do. Tonight the rain comes, the all-too-symbolic rain. Everything is black and white today. Not like every other time.