I should retreat before it's too late,

Yet I forge on

Spurred by an opressive force.

Useless bits of work, performed only as proof that they are possible.

The tedious labor pounds away at my brain

Like a form of mental water torture... drip... drip... drip...

The undeniable force presses persistently into my mind

Driving out all other thought that does not apply to the task at hand.

How many hours until freedom?

How many days until I may see the light?