If I could believe in people getting what they deserved I might grant this new kind of living to it. One turn in karmic revolution, and here weI am.

Most days I’m too busy to notice what doesn’t happen, but every night I feel it. This self-imposed exile is becoming routine. No phone. No TV (I don’t remember what’s happening on The Office). An hour of internet per day. No doctors, because a part of me saw nothing to improve myself for. I’m the only one stuck here and I feel pathetic, but this is where I swore I’d be. Keeping that promise is important even if it’s only me that knows why.

I keep my hair short just in case, though. I’ve grown an almost-beard, because I’m too lazy to shave. It’s too painful and I don’t see the point in suffering if no-one reaps the benefits of a clean shaven face.