the steam coming off the takeout ramen is fogging up the window, pixel is watching it like it's a nature documentary and the way the glass blurs the outside, it's almost like a painting, people just shapes moving past and the colors are muted and i don't have to be part of it, i can just watch, safe inside with pixel and cheap noodles, it's pathetic but it's mine, the warm bowl in my hands is the only real thing and i can breathe again, like the air outside is too sharp but in here it's just right, not too much, not too little, and maybe that's enough, maybe just existing in this tiny space is all i need to do today, it's not brave, it's not anything, it's just... being.