no one knew how i felt except for all the dusty back roads in their dreary isolation and brokenness. i spent countless hours standing outside the entrance of the buckaroo tavern with stephanie when i was 3 years old because daddy was too ******* wasted to drive home. the heat waves from that broken down neon sign during the frosty seattle winter of 2001 felt like a security blanket at times if i pretended hard enough, i felt like there was something in the big bad world that actually cared for me.