I’m usually fine - not even that sad or lonely - but my coworker keeps asking me what I do in my spare time and I don’t have a good answer and it just makes me feel like such a waste of blood. I wish I wasn’t the alone type. I feel like I haven’t even lived for 19 years. Maybe a few, but mostly I’ve been uselessly losing my telomeres in ten-foot rooms. The glass and the algorithms seal me into a maze and so even though I’m allowed to leave I can’t find my way out.
when will sports end