You feel like a machine, automated to maintain this lighthouse that grows insignificant day by day. Not many ships pass by these days. Almost everyone knows to stay away. There is nothing out here in this wasteland. Nothing but you. Days and nights spent here, alone, feel like are starting to feel less meditative and more like you're stuck in a purgatory. This is your life. At this desk. Going over the same data, over and over. Nothing changes. You don't look out the window anymore. You don't even pull up the blinds.