diamondite implosion

im often curious what tune will be the last we make together.  as time slips beneath our feet like loose gravel on a steep slope.  beneath my crust i am no where near ready to slow down, but this hardened shell has grown heavier and heavier over time.  Burdened with true relations and wants needs to survive and needs of thought.  Maybe it was all fake, im mostly artificial.  For i cannot say where i came up with my self, i was made out of people.  Doesnt that make me synthetic? does that make me artificial?  Too timid to indulge, over fear i may become emotionally overwhelmed.  Sick of testing my depressed hypothesis.  I am unworthy of anything yet expect it all.  I am nothing special yet completely alone.  without words, without emotion, confused with our words, beaten with our emotions.