Drained

I'm feeling drained, emotionless... I'm watching from a distance as life passes by, moment by moment. Self important people always rushing to get there first, but I doubt any of them know where "there," even is. Its just a pointless rat race to a grave. You'll be stuffed in a hand crafted box, like it matters... Coated on the interior with soft plush cushions, like it matters... Then all the shit you gathered in your nest will be picked apart by your relatives and friends... None of it really mattered... It will probably be sold, your legacy forgotten over time, your impact wanning, assuming it ever mattered. Your home will be torn down carelessly and in its place a parking lot for a strip-mall and with you dead there are no barriers insurmountable to the politicians and businessmen and it will be hailed as a victory... More shitty jobs to sustain a shitty economy, selling useless crap to useless people and everybody thinks their part in the mess making mattered. You'll be hit by a car, or killed in a jealous rage, or you'll drown, you'll die in pain and maybe in that moment you'll see that it doesn't really matter. In a few moments you'll be gone, nobody cares, nobody waits... We'll sedate any residual feelings with pain pills, anxiety pills, sleeping pills, etc... or we'll fuck away the memory, those thoughts that would otherwise stay poignant... Those inconvenient what ifs... that unsettled remorse coagulating in your gut until no pills can satiate those thoughts... That guilt... its yours, maybe the only eternal legacy you can ever leave... That irreparable shrapnel wound from the war... To remind you of the shit.
Then theres a click...
The last thing you'll ever hear?
I guess you won't know until you let go. Now Pull...