At some point, Jessica slipped away from the group to find somewhere she could recoup some more. She ended up curled up on a cushioned bench in one of the more secluded areas, a little room with a tall white wall and a projector beaming a blue light onto it. It had probably gone idle ages ago, or maybe it was just broken. Perhaps this was the "art" all along, which then it was a bit of a cop-out, in her opinion. Whatever the case, Jessica didn't think too hard about it and leaned back, knees hugged against her chest, and shut her eyes to release the tension in her head. Not that that was any use, her whole body ached overwhelmingly with it; with exhaustion, guilt, and frustration. It was growing increasingly hard each day to stay "positive", or to want to; if she accepted that the world was fucked and it probably wasn't going to get any better, then maybe this wouldn't hurt so much. She opened her eyes and stared at the blue illuminant and frowned. How depressing.