There is a new view outside my two tall windows for the first time in five years. In the reflections of the windows of the buildings directly in front of me I can see the damage done by the Tornado. On the left, the windows of the Suntrust building are boarded up in light-brown plywood. The broken windows of the Equitable building are currently sealed by duct-tape and something plastic that ripples in the wind. The city feels like an organism that has taken damage; the whole is able to continue to operate, but less efficiently and in less accommodating conditions. Will they finish fixing all the windows or will people just get used to it? The city never ceases inspiring me.

If I look even deeper into the reflections on the right I can see the Westin Hotel. It has a few holes in it, too. Most of the ground is clean. I can see the metal portable fences in another reflection in ground level, stacked and leaning on something. I feel at one with the creatures around me: pigeons, rats, crickets, tarantula, human.

I start work on Thursday. It was worth giving everything away to feel free for a little while. Anyone still panicking doesn't know me very well. I don't feel so wonderful right now, but I feel alright for the most part. I never needed to sit around and collect pages of ink filled out by myself, like writing a million checks to no one. I hope they go to good homes is all I have to say about it. I hate this computer as much as I'm accustomed to its presence. Computers have become such a bothersome annoyance. I feel obligated to update my existence continually in case people who I hardly know might worry that I'm not feeling well. It's insane. I had no choice but to close my profile. A journal should be enough. If my eloquence isn't enough to satisfy the interrogators in my life, then I will continue to forfeit channels of communication until I'm like a stray dog, friend of the road. Hopefully it will never get that bad.