This will be another one of those things that I look back on and think “how pathetic” but screw it. I am a worm, creation is big and I am small, little, and slimy and gross. All I can do is writhe in my own dirt, flailing gracelessly. Trying to make sense of my miniscule humanity. 

And my current dirt of choice is loneliness. Blah, blah, blah, the human condition. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I don’t have to feel in place to belong.