Encapsulated, preparing for self-annihilation

Destination nowhere. No power to change what should be changed. All bridges on fire...
She was slowly walking down the street in the very heart of that huge monster-like city with its screaming ads and neons everywhere. She used to like that energy in the past, but now it was really killing... It seemed that all this ugly lights were growing in her eyes, becoming shapeless and aggressive, they were invading her brain, twisting it with sharp, torn pain from the middle of the grey mass, destroying her privacy - and at the same time, she knew that for sure, all this city was absolutely indifferent about her; nobody cared, except some disco-boys, riding fathers' cabs and thinking they're unbelievable cool because of that. She hated them, she hated everything surrounding her now - and only the pain inside, it was something of her own; she was bleeding - and gently scratching the wound; she felt encapsulated, for all this shit not to touch her, for she could die alone, for nobody could reach her and roughly force his way inside her isolation...
She could do nothing. Actually she could do everything, but now... now it was impossible for her even to raise her hand to strike a blow. But still, all bridges are already on fire. And all, what's left to do, was waiting there, encapsulated, preparing for self-annihilation.