Proverbial Glass Door

I am so tired. So drained of any sort of emotion or feeling. I cannot hold myhead up for much longer, as I feel it is about to roll off my shoulders and into the river. Once again, my insides are aflame, and I find it difficult to even muster a friendly hello. The reservoir of tears never seems to dry up. I doubt that I will ever understand human nature. Who are these insane, complex, psychic vampires that feed on my essence? When the hell did I sign up for this never ending merry go round? Merry? More like "Despair go round".

My senses are keen, but always too late.