'How is your living?'

Complicated. Complicating. Complication.

I can't keep the up down and the down up long enough to tell between the two. I can't keep this date stuck, this schedule clear, this pace up long enough to outlast myself. And I'm not outlasting anything else.

Falling, falling, dropping behind. Slipping back and down and under the rug where the dirt from daily life gets swept away. But, keep this up. Keep your head above the water line, keep your feet above the sinking line, keep your arms above the dropping line. It'll hold and this cliff'll settle and we'll see the light and I'll feel the sun -- one of these days.

But for now I'm on the edge, on the ledge, on the end.
And I don't know that I'm going to be there much longer.

No, but root it out, get it up, shout it down. You've got to light it up, put it down, drown it out. It's just the venom from the poison in your arm thats feeding the veins to your heart. But the core artery, the main line, the central rail is still good.

You can salvage this.
You can keep it. You can learn it.
You can save this.

Or, maybe you'll lose like you knew your would. And, this will save you.

So keep up, keep quiet, keep the late bite down.
Swallow it. Hold it in.
Just. One. More. Time.

Fuck. It still won't wash over you, won't come down for you, can't calm down. There's always a hurricane in your head, a tornado in your dreams, a stadium being torn to pieces with the people still inside. Another nightmare just waiting on the edges of your mind.

And you always fall asleep.

No, but don't let it go, don't let it slip, don't let it fall. Hold the pot up on your head, up on the rack, up in the air. The water will flow through and flow down and stain the rest of your head soon. And the air will come and the wind will blow and you'll feel alive again. Just wait. Warm your fingertips and blood'll always come back.

You'll see.

One more time, one more schedule, one more appointment to make with someone that you didn't call. But time is always moving, always going nowhere. Round and round in the circle we go. When we get there, we'll never get there - and we'll never know it.
One more time around and the edges fade a little bit more and the picture slides away a little bit farther, and the line that divides us spreads the chest apart.

Soon, we'll be bleeding and beating and floundering on the ground.
That's when we're alive.
That's when we'll see.
That's when we'll rescue this.

Hold it, hold on, hold out, hold up. I'll catch up. I can catch up.
I can make it, keep it, craft it, win it.

You'll see.