Feeling a little... nonexistant

It does not do credit to my personality, but to some extent my capricious emotions are difficult to control. It's moments like this that I'm astounded at my own hypocrasy. Do I not feel happy and superior on my little island of pretentious intelligence? Perhaps not. Curse you, John Donne. Why did you have to be so correct? So now I will float down to my isolated substance abuse... literary substance abuse. To Camelot, medieval China, and seventeenth century France will I escape. The dream is too fantastic to be a reality, so it is that which I seek.