Borderline, feels like I'm going to lose my mind

The path is narrow, but it is vivid and clear; there is no other recourse. When she invited me into the security room, it was plain to see what was in store. At the back of my mind it was an easy resignation, like countless times before. All it took was a single mistake. People can be so excessively petty. So now I have to make do with what I have, as I always have, and will continue to have. Some blessings in life can only be so fickle, and some others have their paths made clear to them from the first. There are things yet I have yet to discover, and every single day is a struggle towards that lifelong journey. Until then, true happiness will always remain elusive like an eel.

The clock continues to move along. And my smartwatch now has a lovely view, all thanks in part to a certain someone allowing me a perusal of her immaculate image. I love her truly with all my heart.

And I read somewhere along the lines of: "Life is the reward of virtue -- and happiness is the goal and the reward of life." If so, I question the veracity of its definition of life. It is so absurd to be judged solely by the successes and misgivings of one's productivity. I cannot just simply control the opinion of others on a whim and pray that someday happiness will ever be attained, for it is surely a miserable path to take. It is wholly unkind and tragic and sad, and by no means do I ever think of it in a way that I worry about others' opinion because I do not. I worry about myself at the cost of everything taking along this path. I worry about the potential happiness I am losing on my way towards this seemingly unattainable ideal. I worry about a life wasted on lofty aspirations even though there is a strong possibility of crashing and burning. At the moment it is easy and fleeting to worry since I have nothing to rely on other than myself. Obviously that does not make the whole thing any easier -- in reality it makes it all harder because I have to fend it all without any backup to rely on. It is not like before where I could simply just dial a number and someone will be there to pick it up and pick me up, no. Those days are over. Friends, even loved ones, come a dime a dozen. All me, just me. Me, myself, and I.

I look at my hands now and see the wrinkle building up over once youthful skin. My time is running out. Would that I could finally find my soul to squeeze.

I need the pilgrimage.