i'm trying to write and nothing comes out. nothing but the sound of the sirens in the town where i sometimes live. and this. the memory of a stuck key and being. unstuck. i'm not always right. or wrong. i'm not at the top notch or perched to take out some competition. but i am well. i do well. laugh well. enough. and i love. in incredible amounts. i've spent my whole life being afraid of these moments. these intricate webs of time when i am