One day I'll probably stop writing.
The world would run out of things
to write about.
My mind would run out of things
to write about.

And a terrible lull will linger
over my head.
Probably apathy.
Probably cyclothymia.

I'll leave myself out of everything.
I will only listen to the sound around me,
not the sound that's coming from me.

I am awake.
I swear I'm awake.