Loneliness is a wounded beast, roaring and clawing at the walls of my heart, wailing for reprieve, relief for his suffering. A balm, a salve for injuries he can't see, with no end in sight, maybe a mercy kill is instead what he should seek. He couldn't talk and even if he tried, I doubt you'd understand his cries, "Come get me out, these four walls are so empty, somebody please come find me."
— Camille Lee, Loneliness is a wounded beast