fried and frayed

seattle is a gorgeous woman who will not look at you, much less have sex with you.
*
i came to that conclusion this evening, walking in a north wind with spitlike rain, making eye contact with people who merely glared. the weather fucking sucks and is certainly contributing to my mindset. there was a thunderstorm earlier today that i listened to under the safety of my deck awning, watching the inertia of vehicles on the freeway, the lake inky and flat. i felt wistful of the moment as it was happening, like kissing someone goodbye when you know it's the last time- too painful to get much else out of the experience.
i have been a fucking mess this past week, for i am irreversibly within the quagmire of my own doing, and something must change. i cannot have my life in multiple places. it took me three hours to commute to and from work on sunday, in a deluge, with wipers that don't work. i have a wonderful job that i feel even more obligated to since i adopted the fucking kitten (who is being... a kitten. that is to say, i love her, but she's incredibly annoying and into everything, and decrying her natural lovable kittenness makes me sound like an evil asshole), and one of the neuro doctors fixed my wipers on monday, and everyone there, for the most part, gets along very well.
i never am at the lair that i love, i have never found a semblence of community in the city i'm supposed to glean all the answers from, and i can no longer justify paying out my ass to live among fucking condos and unsmiling strangers and Wine Bars and bmws and i feel especially horrible when i think of times when things in this town were good, when i was able to share them with someone, anyone, and how infrequent those times were, how i have always, on some level, felt like a visitor here.
i feel like a visitor everywhere.
i had a panic attack the other night. it had been awhile. i was laying in bed, 3am, stuck with my mind, remembering every negative thing i've ever done, unable to breathe. and there was nothing i could do but ride it out and talk myself down. and the concept of that made me feel even worse. how fucking lonely is that?