"Why am I always sick?" I ask, sitting in my room for days having forgotten to eat or bathe or change clothes. "A mystery of medical science." I say, being around chemicals most of the time and staring at a computer screen the rest of the time for days. "This couldn’t possibly be any of my doing"
There is a spider on my lap top. I don’t want to get up to move it, and I don’t want to kill it. This laptop is the warmest place in the room I can’t exactly blame him.