read the writing that's on the wall (you better know, you better understand)

[erika]

Sitting here, listening to the various voices in my head that belong to the different parts of me—

my unending anxiety about nearly everything, my constant low-grade irritation at the entire world, my generally depressed habitual patterns of thinking that tend to wander in and take over when I'm not paying strict attention——

and wondering if I'll even notice when I go irredeemably insane and need to be institutionalized, or whether it'll just look & feel exactly like it does right now (all the time?) in my head.

There is no guidance in your kingdom
Your wicked walk in Babylon
There is no wisdom to your freedom
The richest man in babylon

Your beggars sleep outside your doorway
Your prophets leave to wonder on
You fall asleep at night with worries
The saddest man in Babylon

The wicked stench of exploitation
Hangs in the air and lingers on
Beneath the praise and admiration
The weakest man in Babylon

There is no hope left in your kingdom
Your servants have burned all their songs
Nobody here remembers freedom
The richest man in Babylon

~ The Thievery Corporation
The Richest Man in Babylon