Almost always, I speak before thinking. Almost always I regret it. I also almost always feel comfort in the shared misery of common experience. I am almost always grateful for sad friends. I’m also almost always worried. It’s almost always about nothing.

Sometimes I eat well. Sometimes it’s for many days in a row. Sometimes I feel great and sometimes my head is on straight and sometimes I work hard and sleep really well because sometimes I’ve done a day well. Sometimes I have pizza. Sometimes I have pizza for multiple meals in a row. Sometimes pizza is all I’ve eaten all day, for days. Sometimes pizza is a metaphor for everything else.

Seldom do I run up the score. Seldom do I rub it in. Though, I’m seldom the best.

Often, I’m second best. Often, I’m here watching others doing. Often I wonder how they do it. Often, it seems the answer is biology. Often, biology seems unfair. I don’t feel as though I’m unfair often. I find myself wondering about karma often. Often it’s when I’ve done something nice. It’s not often when I’ve done something not nice.

Occasionally I fall from limbs. I rarely regret that.