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No. I just like to suffer in my own way. Why would I want to drown my sorrows when I can go all Alice in Wonderland with them?
I can't believe I've gone this long without treatment. I keep swallowing stuff down into my rabbit hole.
I'm afraid I'm going to become as mad as a fucking hatter.
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Knowing that death is certain and that the time of death is uncertain, what's the most important thing?
—Bhikkhuni Pema Chödrön
Humankind cannot bear very much reality.
—From "Burnt Norton," Four Quartets (1936), T. S. Eliot
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