This room has the worst energy. It reeks of laziness and lack of care. 3months of living hasn't pulled the suitcases off the floor or dragged the clothes out of them. The radiator hisses and clicks like some angry reptile and the world rumbles and shakes to the fourth floor as the thousand subway cars pass underneath.

Life continues on outside in machine forms, horns and motors and generators, busying themselves with routine. If there are birds other than pigeons, they don't sing. But I sit here staring at this pale screen, aching from long walks and the tension of the city.

This place is a cesspool.

There is so little kindness.

I need help finding light here.