"I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" Damien Rice

The last time I felt and looked like this--gaunt, emptied, beaten--I was a feverish boy staggering in the hallway, noticing anew the space and dimensions of doorknobs, runners and light fixtures. And the revitalizing coldness of bathroom tiles on my bare feet. I'm so tired. I do not recognize myself like this.

This morning, I ask for patience.