the way out is through

I've been thinking about this mask thing. It's an apt description, really. I feel like I'm still ten years old, helpless, naive, trusting, and ignorant, wearing this awkward and ill-fitting adult face over my own, and the real bitch of it all, the thing I can't change and can't do anything to fix, is that the mask is my real face. I'm one step removed from my own life. I wrote a lot more to this, but then when I tried to post, I lost it all. I copied it, but without thinking, I copied some article from a website, and I lost whatever soul-crushing gibberish I wrote originally.

I'm still in the darkest hour here, and I still can't see any light to guide me out. The only option I have is to force myself on, deeper into the darkness, and hope that there's an exit that way, because I can't turn around, and I can't go back. Seriously, though: how many times do I have to learn the lesson that I can't trust anyone else? How often do I have to be taught that most Americans just want money by any means possible? At least thieves are honest in their desires. Lawyers and landlords, lawyers and landlords. We're all just lawyers and landlords.

Drinking: Earl Grey -- Twinnings, still. it's free at work, and that's become a big issue with me lately.
Eating: Since Friday, I've eaten the following: 3 donuts. 2 bowls of cereal. A cheese enchilada with beans and rice on the side. A small, grilled salmon with a small salad. between 12 and 18 cups of coffee. 6 slices of pizza (3 for dinner, 3 for lunch the next day).
Reading: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. It's a funny, intensely depressing book. I haven't had a book so accurately peg my anxieties since Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth. As a result, it's difficult for me to read.