Some days, I wake up tired. I hold my estrogen under my tongue until my mouth turns blue. I log into work, I stare at the screen. I get up, go to the bathroom, and look in the mirror. The weight of all the decisions I've ever made surrounds me. The circumstances of my life dance in my peripheral vision. I look my reflection in the eyes and I ask myself:

"Do I want to learn how to play Guilty Gear?"