it's too easy in this world to complain. it is too easy to not see how blessed we are at every moment for every limb that works and every breath that exhales. it is too easy to underestimate our ability to impact others gracefully. it is too easy to wish for more when we already have more than enough. i live 7 doors from the outside. i live 700 feet from the Yukon River. I live 70 feet from the ground floor. i am resposnible for 70 hormone rageing, cooped up, angst driven, teenagers. they are contagious. i am regressing. i live in a box. i sleep like slumber is heaven and hell is what happens when you wake up. i sleep in the morning and the afternoon but never at night (defined by the hours on the clock. at this latitude darkness is only what we try to keep outside). at night i send and receive messages that impact my dreams. my dreams are about seattle and aliens, love lost and secret disguises. tonight i will write letters to people i never met about their children who i take care of and pretend to know. i would take a bullet for their children i should tell them but instead i say, she seems to be doing well. i would take a bullet but i imagine i'd be crouching on the ground instead because i'm the kind of person that runs when someone yells, heads up.