when the cheese burns the roof of your mouth

a sense of dissatisfaction has been building up recently. it's probably the lack of sleep, but it could be a symptom rather than the cause. it's probably a lack of meaningful interactions with my social circle, but i seem to be having enough of it so far. or it's probably depression season again. it's always the convenient excuse.

it's gotten much easier to pretend that i'm happy. funny things are funny things. there will always be something primal about humor that it can trigger a reaction even at the most damning of times. although i have been forcing my laughter more than i'm used to. it's a desperate attempt to find some sliver of hope amidst all this.

it's a no brainer. i want to be happy.

i can only toss and turn in bed enough times before i decide to sit by the window in the middle of night and wonder where the hell did i go wrong. which i don't think it the least bit. i'm supremely privileged than most people. other than feeling empty inside from time to time, i live a good life. but again, just because i have it better than others and an inordinate number of people have it worse than me doesn't invalidate my personal conflicts. it does affect my health, it does affect my ability to be productive. so if i eventually descend into utter uselessness, who the fuck will make cheese and pepperoni toasties.

so far, i'm functional. so onto the next slice of life.

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