Until I understood the import of my descent into the ineffable purgatory of 24-hour convenience, the wandering striations upon each hand found equilibrium in their senseless styrofoam grip. Nightly I held intermittent reign over coffee and life; the inextricable connection between which became evident in my eternal restlessness.
Sunrise dealt a deadly blow to my self-induced amnesia. To struggle with the will is one thing; to take one's mind and extricate it from the tangles of thought is another entirely. Each morning I held a bit of sentience and tied it to the truth around me. Each night I grew my nails with a hope of tearing free.
It was with thoughts as these that I sat, my back against the wall.