A person named “Living Alone” who doesn’t actually live alone, likes to sit by the window with headphones on when bored, watching how many modified motorcycles ride over the bridge. (As of now When sitting at a desk trying to write, usually nothing comes out. So the real writing scene is: 3 a.m., in bed. What’s written before sleep often reads like a hallucination after a bottle of whiskey. (not much logic or reason to it But still, I hope these intense hallucinations can bring warmth, or stir the heart once more. Hmm… feels like it’s still far from there. (Currently working on it