17.9 miles through the snow up 11,503 ft to the tallest mountain in Southern California.
Has the world gone to shit? I don't care. Every mile I walk the thread that ties me to reality unravels a little bit more, step by furious step. The blisters, the ticks, the cold, the fear of a Bigfoot attack is easier to deal with than the thought that people might not necessarily be all shitty, it's just that you're an asshole and seem to fuck up any kind of social interaction that goes beyond "hey how are you? How do you want your haircut?" Or the fear that you have trouble expressing any kind of healthy emotion outside of a rambling social media post. There's nothing to learn here, it's just a personal journal of insecurities now. I might be one DMV line away from a secluded cabin in the woods.