"Oh, you don't seem like the type to be alone." and i wanted to laugh, i wanted to tell her about pixel, about the careful choreography of my days, avoiding everyone, the grocery store calculus, the blank space where a life should be, she would have seen it then, i AM that type, i perfected that type, designed it, coded it, debugged it, ux'd it, i’m the lonely type distilled to its purest form. it's not even about wanting something different, it's the reflex, the flinch before anyone gets close enough to see the cracks, the wires exposed, the whole damn thing might just short circuit if someone touches me wrong you know? it doesn't matter how much i want to be touched, i can't override the code.