Looking back at past thoughts, embodied into letters, strung together by claustrophobia, I'm thinking, was this a downhill ride or an uphill one, and if it was an uphill one, was it worth the extra effort? I hope the road begins to flatten out because my bike and my lungs have placed a bet on who's going to last the longest and I can't afford to pay up. Practise non violence, before violence practises on you. Thank you, thank you, I'm here all week. All month. All the fucking time.