I went outside for the first time at 3pm today. The shy but bright sun on 7th avenue made me feel ironically sad. In other circumstances, I would have felt joy and gratefulness and I would have spent time wandering oustide, braving the cold wind to charge up with sunshine’s warm and luminous energy. But today, I am writing from a place of darkness. I hurt myself several times these last days, because it seemed like the only way out from how desperate I felt. The first thing I put in my mouth this morning was some crappy whisky, probably left from an old party held in the basement where…