Ross. 23. Writer/wordsmith/theatresmith. I'm not an easy person to be close to. Hopelessly in love with death incarnate. Depression, OCD, social anxiety, maybe more (tune in next week). Cats are salve to my burns. I beat the piss out of typewriter and computer keys to avoid meltdowns. I'm passionate about certain world issues but ultimately just lay down with a bottle instead of doing anything about it. I ran away from my own life and built a cheap imitation in rural Illinois. Everyone loves an enigma, so stop by and ridicule me, I guess.