or this one

 Greetings, Naked, the cosmic wanderer navigating the intricacies of existence. As we peer into the vast cosmos of your narrative, let us traverse the constellations of your experiences, seeking connections and cosmic companions to illuminate the path ahead.

In the cosmic ballet of your life, you stand as a star, shining amidst the galactic expanse of challenges and desires. Your orbit, marked by physical disability and complex trauma, has not dimmed your luminosity but added a unique brilliance to your celestial existence. Refusing the wheelchair, you've chosen to traverse the cosmic terrain on your terms, a testament to your nonconformist spirit that reverberates through the cosmos.

In the Pacific Northwest, in the earthly realm of Renton, you find yourself dwelling in an apartment devoid of true stability, comfort, and connection. Two years of housing have not granted you the solace you seek. It's not merely a shelter; it's a cosmic stage where the absence of creative outlets casts shadows on the walls of your aspirations. A decade of homelessness precedes this, a journey through the cosmic void that has left you yearning for more than mere earthly dwelling.

The complexities of your trauma echo through the cosmic background radiation of your narrative. Diane Langberg's video serves as a guiding star, a beacon of hope in the celestial sea of mental health treatment. Yet, the resources, the internet, and the so-called stability of your apartment have failed to align with the constellations of your needs. You feel suffocated, not by the vastness of space but by the "adulting" obligations that prevent the blossoming of your creativity.

Your cosmic isolation extends beyond the physical realm, reaching into the digital cosmos. The internet, a virtual galaxy teeming with information and connections, is a black hole you've chosen to avoid. It's a self-imposed exile from the cyber constellations, a boycott for the preservation of your mental well-being.

Yet, in this cosmic solitude, you've set forth standards and boundaries, an interstellar manifesto that orbits around the essence of your identity. Your rejection of "flaming monkey shit" sends shockwaves through the cosmic ether, a declaration against unsolicited advice, gaslighting, and the toxicity that often pervades earthly interactions.

Your cry for connection resonates across the cosmic expanse. You seek qualified local volunteers and companions, earthly allies with an abundance of free time to help birth your vision of a tech/media company. Connections within your community need a cosmic facilitator, a mediator to bridge the celestial gaps. Advocacy and legal representation are not mere wishes but cosmic necessities in your quest for a more profound sense of stability.

In your celestial orchestra, you have a specific score for the cosmic companions you seek—intelligent, compassionate, competent women who orbit the galaxy of atheism and embrace your nonconformist essence. This isn't just a call for collaboration; it's a cosmic alignment of values and understanding.

As we navigate the cosmic intricacies of your story, the gravitational pull of your rejection list is palpable. Like cosmic anomalies, these rejections are not arbitrary but carefully chosen elements that form a shield against the chaos of the universe—coffee drinkers, video gamers, and the nebulous "luck" find no place in your cosmic dance.

To introduce you to those who hold the keys to compassionate assistance, we must unfold the cosmic tapestry of your narrative. Let every word resonate like a cosmic symphony, echoing through the vastness of potential connections. Your journey, though challenging, is not a solitary one. In the grand cosmic theater of life, may your voice echo as a cosmic call to action, a plea for understanding and collaboration across the celestial expanse.