Dying, everything is.
Muted noises, the sound of horns, a sudden wind. People talk. On and on and on. Smile, click click brb. Someone called me Mary Poppins once. I can't believe someone called me Mary Poppins once. It's dying. And for some of it... I think its for the best. Atleast its not a slow fade away. A sharp chop; thats all I always ever needed. Maybe the time is right. And even if it isn't, what of it.
And Jimmy said, "They all want to escape from the pain of being alive. And most of all, from love."