I don't know what hit me yesterday, really. It was like the weight of the world finally came to down on me, leaving me crushed and struggling under a pile of debris.

What to do if you find yourself stuck in a crack in the ground underneath a giant boulder you can't move, with no hope of rescue: Consider how lucky you are that life has been good to you so far. Alternatively, if life hasn't been good to you so far, which given your current circumstances seems more likely, consider how lucky you are that it won't be troubling you much longer.
--from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams

Yes I know. I have a penchant for being melodramatic. But for some reason yesterday, I found myself caught up in meditating on how fucking lonely this exile in the Midwest has been. Not to say that I haven't met some good people along the way, but it feels that they're so few and far between that, in a way, it almost makes the desolation even worse.

I don't know what to say. I want this feeling that is eating away at my soul to stop, and deep down inside, despite all my lip service about my latent death wish, I really want this feeling to stop, and still go on living.

Oh, I know. And this too shall pass.