relics.

a hundred voices but they're all the same, one mess of thoughts and feelings. filter them out? i wish i could but i'm losing myself in them right now and i don't expect to break free, but that's all i want in the end anyhow, to melt into the blur of my surroundings, to be without any conscienceness of worry or doubt, of security. 

constancy. 

the edge, the extreme? they've wearied me and worn away my will.