Grinding down the same pathways day after day sets the mind, defines it and grinds it into a submission. It's hard to believe anything exists outside that. As the fibres our thoughts weave across deaden, their properties are stabilised and no branching off is possible. I've reached a point where it's impossible to conceive of any branching off taking place, ever.

( A few of my thoughts about The One AM Radio - This Too Will Pass )

And, back to "You Can Still Run," when he refers to the situation as a "tightening knot", this too is exact. With a week to go 'til exams, that is where I am, at the centre of a tightening knot. I quite fancy being one of his characters; happy in a blissful, broken, sleepy, sad way. I only fear that I lack their resolve, or their creator's wisdom.