room in eight

It gets worse, apparently.

I guess this is what people miss about that Laguna mountain: everyone was vulnerable, everyone saw everyone else as another lost soul that could use a drink and some conversation.

nasty/brutish/short

More and more, I begin to believe there is such a thing as being too poor to appreciate beauty. The thought coaxes a desperation that clouds judgment and clutches at the throat and chest, masticating sanity between the steel jaws of a society that is wont to leave you to wander their streets, unable to live until eventually succumbing to death.