"...Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end? I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?" she said aloud. I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. ... "

I feel like Alice, down the rabbit hole. Searching... searching... searching. It comes in waves. Sometimes swinging madly, back and forth like a wind-chime does, during a particularly windy day. Other times it's like a riptide and it hits me all at once. Two turbulent currents, meeting head-on... colliding and catching me offguard. A crosscurrent of dissidence. PMS-lite, multiplied by 1,000. I cannot tell a lie, I'm in frequent turmoil and I can't seem to wrestle and pin it down, for a final count. I'm not accustomed to this. My ego did not prepare me for these dark days. But I'm determined to be triumphant. Most days are better than others, a few tend to be 'right tenebrous and the brooding sets in, unannounced and unwelcomed with arms folded tightly across my chest, in defiance. I solace those darker feelings however, because they prompt me to claw my way out of the depths of melancholy and frustration. They fuel the hunger. Those dark days prompt me to consume the nourishment I need, to remain sated.

"Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead: before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost."

As tired as I am, I'm a night-owl and don't care for sleep. I only sleep, because it allows me the opportunity to dream.