Sogndalsfjøra again

I have hit a brick wall and it shattered into shreds of clay!
But for a moment there, I felt like the dumbest person alive... Just as if a part of my brain had shut and watched passively as the rest went about doing shite! It is a feeling of uselessness, or even despair, when doing the wrong thing sound like a good idea... Yet in the back of your head, you know it's still wrong.
Wish I could say I could not remember the last time it happened... alas, I cannot! Every so often, the warden comes along and parades itself in front of the jail's door, whilst juggling the keys. No use in yelling, no use in crying... the walls are thick, the door is sturdy, the lock is bulletproof and the warden has long years on his belt.
I am where I come from and what I did, but there is still a great deal to build on, so I would hold on writing me off... I'm changing, but there is still some old skin to shed!

I saw something in Sogndalsfjøra... I saw it again! It has been two months now...