So long, my fate has changed

All in jest. Try, please do try, not to lecture me for the prolonged absence. I vacation, such as it is, from both my paid job and this, my indentured servitude. Another interruption looms just ahead on the calendar's next row, blacked out for beachfront travel. Just another Barbie, I guess, nestled in their sandy ranks like an anxious Waldo within a swarm of candy-cane carnage. Recent memory reveals in me an effortless tendency to twist everything into its ugliest version of itself. A result, no doubt, of all this activity fore and aft this post...lingo like "peopling" and "adulting" come to mind, but the endless echo of idiocracy has manifested into a migraine so intent on proclaiming permanence that I would give almost anything short of you to be free of it. It has swallowed me again, this darkness now making me the passenger, taking me on quite the bad trip tracing a crooked little vein across the underside of American cultural geography. Oh, but you can tag along, lurking like a barnacle adhered to my undercarriage and up to no good, Cape Fear-style, if you like. Bear witness now or later, but be warned that my tales of the road read like McCarthy's, with only one thing being certain: it's been deranged.