Train Wreck

I am so tired. No, tired is not the perfect word. Neither is sleepy. I am exhausted yes, but even that word does not fully express my core's feelings. I am drained. Yes. Drained. I am drained of energy, I am drained of happiness. I am drained of anger. I am drained of hope. I am drained of fear. I am drained of care. I am drained of joy. I am drained of excitement. I am drained of anticipation. I am drained of wonder. I am drained of feeling. I am drained. I feel like a shell; a hollow casing ready to collapse into itself. I want to sleep and never wake. I want to feel nothing and everything. I want to live my dreams and dream my life. If only I had a drive, a purpose, a meaning, a care! I only feel empty and done. Done with this game of playing pretend. Finished with this existence of insecure security. I want to exit the stage and close my eyes for eternity in the green room. The stage lights are too bright and I want to run. If I cannot exit peacefully I will jump off the stage into the pit. But I am afraid of heights. Oh, feelings, why do you appear when I have just denounced you? How can I apparently feel such hate and desperation yet feel so empty and hopeless? I want to laugh, play, imagine, and sing. At the same instant I also want to cry, burn, gash, and disappear. I want to be done! Done with following the rules, doing what I should, following good sense. I want to not exist. Is it that simple? Am I better off dead? Would that stop the hurricane in my mind? Or would I just be subjecting myself and those who love me to an eternity of terror and woe?