"Can't you just stop?" She said confused, "Just steady your hands and we will both pull through this madness you just can't shake." I wasted away in helplessness with all the help I needed right beside me, choosing instead to remain there on the floor, counting aloud the patterns in the ground. (They were) sporadic shapes with no form or functional design; projections of a fractured mind in desperate times.
Solemn Isolation builds you a monument to overvalued ideas with which you can't debate but this condescending statue will rust away with every commune and bitter thoughts will start to lose their weight.
"Why can't I stop?" I said, "It's been eight years since I told myself to disregard these routines which do nothing for me except make obvious the number of tiles punched out on every ceiling and the feelings that bury me here."
When every step ahead is a sinking feeling and I'm caught between a life controlled in every detail and uncertainty, well certainly, I'll need you here beside me.