The tensions that I must constantly enact, and that which I must constantly make way with. And there arises that same tried feeling, which continues to make things more and more complicate. What else can be said than that singular thing, that keeps me bound and breaks me to the same tried notion? Then there are graces there yet to be spoken of, but what more can be asked of a person? What more can be requested? At that point there is only the moment, and it stings heavily and causes a stark pain and bitterness to emerge. It pierces deeply and engages the receptors to their fullest, remorselessly.