... a recurring bout of suburbanitis, and the only known relief (no known cure) is the application of a transcendiary experience. The torching of perma-numbness. Not just simply ordering a different burger combo or smoothie flavor at thereby unnamed campus eateries.
As I sampled my inner space groups with a denser grid of k-points under the waterfall simulacrum, I wondered if I'm merely rotating within the same dimension, without awareness of high-order fields.
Perhaps I am succumbing to the all-permeating Postmodern Surrealism, whatever that entails.
Meanwhile, I'll keep on keeping on... keep on believin'... Believe in the future.