Being sick all the time makes one tired, tired of being sick. When one is always stressed mentally and physically. One can’t get cold in the hands and feet, in the extremities, like an illness. One feels numb, because it all started inside. When one gets depressed because of bad drama then one feels physically sick as well. So I work on keeping myself warm especially my feet at night, I wear socks. My hands, it’s hard to wear gloves in summer weather when the city’s pavement is burning, I don’t need gloves. I just need to escape from the hot tempers of excited men and rushing bikers. And when I deal with certain women I feel exhausted. Being around most people, I often feel sicker. I find the loneliest spot in Prospect Park and hide there, where perhaps only raccoons and bugs live at night. I love trees. I got a hole in my heart where a seed needs to grow. If I could I would take them home with me, I would. My three favorites in the park are big cherry blossoms. My bed isn’t big enough, but I’d try to fit them in. I wouldn’t sleep so coldly at night. My insomnia would be gone. And I’d never sleep alone again.