I'm watching Mad Men (show that I do not usually watch) right now and there are husband and wife arguing and shoving each other right now. They are both overworked and frustrated, the screen oozes contempt and impotent, empty rage. I know that quiet feeling of despair. I know it, because that was me not long time ago. Desperate. Despondent. Given up. People sometimes say: "It spiraled out of control." Well, that was not it. It did spiral, but not out of control. It spiraled, like NIN album title says "downward spiral". It flowed, steadily and pertinently from caring and comunicating towards silence and scorn, sadly, not opening new questions and discovering doubts but unearthing rifts that were already there... that were always there.
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