I can sense another surreal day coming up.
Meanwhile:

The cynic is a person who has a desperate faith in those things, which others are able to grow out of. We hold on longer to the lies we were told in our childhood...hold on and put off, for as long as we can, the responsibility of taking seriously a world, which is cold, and brutal and empty and so utterly lonely. Until eventually, the cold, the brutality and loneliness kills the will to keep standing up every time we're knocked down...and crouching safely in our corners, enduring the blows, but taking comfort in maintaining at least the dignity of not having to keep falling on our faces...disillusionment comes home, and shows us the abyss.
When the emptiness is a huge reality that will not go away, when all our little vehicles of escapism fall short and there is no fix, no amount of pixie dust which will transport us to an eternal plain of never having existed here, and like this; all we are left with is the world we've already rejected.

I'm looking for the strength to believe again.