Blocked. And just like that, the world falls silent. But silence is never truly empty, something must fill the void. Teardrops splatter against the ground, streaming from weary eyes like rain on a metal rooftop. A rhythmic, sorrowful percussion. Ears ring, drowning out everything, even the hush of solitude. The quiet sobs of defeat escape, reluctant but unstoppable. I can’t bear it. Each passing minute winds me tighter into the spiral, every breath shallower than the last, as if a crushing weight is pressing down on my chest. My fingers claw at my face, pleading for the tears to stop, but they refuse, relentless, unyielding reminders. My hands curl into fists, nails digging deep into my palms, desperate to grasp a rope that is no longer there. I should get up, find something, anything, to anchor my restless mind. But no matter how hard I try, I am forced to listen. Forced to endure the consequences of my own undoing.