When not like a complete stranger, I usually look like someone’s colleague, often a neighbour,
sometimes even a father, but never like a husband or boyfriend, at least. How come, you ask?
Well, I tried once, but it turned out that looks can be deceptive, and the whole law of attraction,
if I ever believed in it, is nothing but a sedative. Of course, once tranquillized, I might make it
through another day. The problem is that being alive is not the same as living. So tell me, then,
what does that make me look like?