It's still cold in Alaska

I will be ok.

You're worried for me and I understand that.. but it only serves to undermine me.
Saying I don't have confidence (What the Hell would YOU know about me anyhow? When was the last time you came to see me perform? When was the last time you Listened, even? "Yes, that's nice dear...." I ASKED YOU A DAMN QUESTION) makes me loathe you for you lack of understanding. You're not helping. I did not ask for your assistance.

"Hell is other people."

The air in here is... wrong. Stale. Old. Dusty, almost. Uncomfortably warm.
A "I need to get out" moment.

-
2 hours later

I climbed over a steamroller and left three plastic pink flowers on its roof. Its wheels were taller than I.

Using the bull-bar of a semi-trailer as a ladder I traversed from the cab to the back on shaky legs. It was higher than I expected and the lactic acid in my calves wasn't going to let me forget how easy it would be for me to fall onto the pavement below.
But then I found stillness.
'Finding stillness'... it's a concept I'm quite familiar with, but I've never [truly] appreciated what it involves until that moment.

There's a quality to finding things you are not seeking.