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Give me a reason. To end this discussion. To break tradition. To fold and divide. 'Cause I hate the ocean, theme parks and airplanes, talking with strangers, waiting in line. I'm through with these pills that make me sit still. "Are you feeling fine?" Yes I feel just fine. I'm sick of the things I do when I'm nervous. Like cleaning the oven or checking my tires. Or counting the number of tiles on the ceiling. Head for the hills the kitchen's on fire. I used to rely on self-medication. I guess I still do that from time to time. But I'm getting better at fighting the future. "Some day you'll be fine." Yes I'll be just fine. I don't believe a word. Of anything I've heard. They tell me it's not so hard. Let's not get carried away with everything. Away with the process from here to in-between. Of elimination the long good-bye. I don't want to waste your time.

Alright. HI. Everything's great. Hey, everything's fine.

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