It seems as though I'm going nowhere really fucking fast.

I had no place to go. It was up or out.

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.

Some days, I listen to that clock ticking in the hallway. Then I think of all the ticks, all the minutes, all the hours and days and weeks and months and years waiting for me. All of it without you. And I can’t breathe then, like someone’s stepping on my heart. I get so weak. So weak I just want to collapse somewhere.

My life is slowed up by thought and the need to understand what I am living.

What froze me was the fact that I had absolutely no reason to move in any direction. What had made me move through so many dead and pointless years was curiosity. Now even that flickered out.

I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.

Nowhere to go but out,
Nowhere to come but back.

I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go.

I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.

The Night Is Darkening Round M

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow,
And the storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me— I will not, cannot go.

there is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock

I know not where I go; I scarcely feel </br> The menacing fatigue about my feet, </br> The skies that scourge, the distances that cheat, the constant wounds that never hurt nor heal.