i always feel the same feeling i’d have if i’d had a terrible row with someone. except that someone is me. complete with that slow movement across the room back towards your SO, to try and recapture the lost intimacy with a touch and a look. it’s so bloody sad. i don’t want to hate myself. in theory, i’m pretty great. except for this dodgy leaking reactor core that emanates loathing continually, and intermittently decides to meltdown spectacularly,  once again. wouldn’t it be nice if wildlife could slowly return over the coming years? wouldn’t it be nice if it became a pleasant place to live, eventually?