I live in a hell of my father’s creation.
That isn’t me being an angsty poetic dad-hater, I mean that he was a drafting technician that worked on what eventually became the neighbourhood I live in with my mom after they split up
And while I love my dad, this place is a nightmare to navigate. Everything is on an incline, it’s long and windey, and the fact that I can’t safely get to a bus stop (because of conditions I inherited from his side, ironically enough) makes me practically housebound.
So PSA to any drafting technicians/literally anyone who designs these things:
The odds your kid is going to end up in a neighbourhood you designed and be screwed over by your choices are admittedly very slim, but it’s apparently not 0.











