snippets nr she shivers in her lightweight jacket and pulls the hood tightly over her head, quickening her step. she doesn't know why she never checks the weather before leaving her apartment. it's always so hot in there that it's misleading. she has a lot on her mind; sometimes even the worst weather can't even permeate her thoughts. she considers this as she feels snowflakes begin to fall on her nose and fog up her glasses. she walks up to the corner of gman's, one of the few staples in this city that has barely changed in decades. it's still the same divey bar with the same owners who are resistant to change. she opens the door and wipes her feet, though it's probably not necessary. a pair of dancing audience members immediately twirl past her and motion for her to join. she clocks how this is one of the few places where people regularly get up and dance to the blues. she politely declines as she removes her coat and pretends to look for someone, but really looks around for no one. she just wants to be here. she can depend on a place like this. 250822 ... nr she's excited and depressed, in equal measures, reading the journal of a writer she loves. she has met them before, a long time ago, but they wouldn't remember her. they were in the limelight back then. the writer has moved to a remote town and talks about single life with their dog and how it's a struggle to afford things on a daily basis. they reflect rather than complain, but the dissatisfaction is clear. they write about how surprised they were upon finding out a once-famous local author was running a gofundme to avoid getting evicted from her apartment. does everyone eventually end up in this place? if this happens to them, what hope is there for her? 250824 what's it to you? who go blather from