From the bayous of New Orleans, to the streets of Seattle, not much changes. Still damp all the time, still dark and musty smelling, still surrounded by people.
I think I like it better here, though. Don't have to hide as much, and for once, I'm really free. Or as free as anyone ever can be.
I think that I'm getting better. Of course, having people who won't let me feel sorry for myself helps a bit. And the changes I've gone through are pretty visible. Maybe I'm going to be alright after all.
Ishtar: I've read about you, and I have a proposition for you, if you'll listen?