Written by: Hannah Lykins

Dear faithful readers, nothing’s alright. Nothing is fine. I can’t go on living this way. This last weekend has really tested me. Downward spiral. Where do I begin?

I thought The Last Resort would be a five-star establishment. But nothing could be further from the truth. I was losing my mind there. My room was a mess. I couldn’t find any clean towels. Finding nothing but questions and devils. And the things I saw there … I don’t think I can unsee the horrors of that hotel. I was living in sin. And I don’t give a fuck about politeness at this point.

I thought the saving grace of this hellhole would be the continental breakfast. But I woke up at 9 a.m. and it was too late, ‘cause they stopped serving food at 8:30. Now I’m hungry! And empty within. Feeding on chaos. And shit, I just wanted a bagel.

Nothing’s alright, nothing is fine. This is the worst hotel I’ve ever stayed at. Suffocation. No breathing. Wish somebody would tell me I’m fine. But truly it is I who has reached my last resort.

Managing Editor at The MQ

Hannah Lykins is a fourth-year student at UCSD.

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