Nothing has changed.

Everything has changed, but still I am the same.

You can't run and you can't hide from the demons eating you from the inside.

Anyway, I'm sitting on the step of Wigglesworth H at Harvard and typing while listening to noise off the street. No, I'm not locked out, I'm just sick of being locked in. Thank you for your concern.

I love it here. Everything is so much more human, and it's impossible to feel like you're not. I really am learning here. I've become that person who sits in classes they're not even assigned to just because they're interesting.

You know, the best things about knowledge and imagination are that they keep you company when you're virtually confined in a box. Boxes include, but are not limited to, dorm rooms, lecture halls, classrooms, houses, any place with four walls and a ceiling.

Why do I need an escape from my escape?

Here it becomes circular. I'd like to talk with my philosophy professor about the nature of escapism. I think it would be an interesting discussion.

This is why I can't become attached to anyone or anything here (sorry). I don't want to make it harder to leave when it's time to. I don't want an anchor anymore.

Day by day, I fight the fever alone.