Burning out and trying my best to fade away. I can't die and I can't turn myself off. I'll do anything I can to turn down the volume. Anything. Anything. Just please please don't make me think. Dear God; please don't make me think.
I guess I should do something. I need to do things, need to live. I want to create. Take that urge and horribly beat it to the ground. Do anything to quiet that voice. I can't tell where the edge is, I'm too blind. Too stupid. Too happy. I am so happy.
Do something. Shut up. Do something. Shut up. Repeat. I am so sick of those two. There's an answer so simple: Just do something. Shut up. Please shut up. Dear God; make them stop.
The volume's low, the lights are dim. I have nothing more to say.