Saturday, April 05, 2003 : Mandys Life Part one :(1997)

In a world where everyone's gotta be something, well, I'm empty. A plain clothes officer in a uniformed world. a sorrowful pityer with everything. I am the epitome of sickness. A playful mind, teasing empty taunts. The stars fall from the sky as I pick them off one by one. The empty deliverance of an unsuccessful angel, using others like play-things in a game of show and tell. Keeping secrets close, lies hidden well. The automatic defense, a weapon used perfectly. Needing someone to talk to, only dead ears listening. The feeling of loneliness can't touch the empty boundaries. The words used so lightly, my cutting arrows. I feel them for one, but only as a friend. It could be said that I am meant for a life of solitude helping others as best I can. A happy charade I put on, but the emptiness is still there. Riding the bus of life, the public transit of my mind and heart open for everyone to ride on, for a buck 75. I say things I'm told to, whispered in my ear by a little demon. A disappearing act made plausible, a magicians trick. I am a fault in nature, a graduate slug, an empty heart, mind, soul, with nothing to save me but a word from a mute voice. The solace in darkness, an empty ride through the depths of hell. I write down everything but what I am thinking. The thief, stealing words which aren't mine walking through a desolate forest a barren wasteland of everything I can't see. I am not the listener I believe myself to be. I am not the perfect friend. I am not the helping hand. I am not the shrink I so desperately need. I've sold my skin for a dollar. I've sold my soul for less. The empty affection of a dick needing a cunt. I've sold myself for more than I can handle. An empty solitude is all that I have. Feelings echo around an empty room, the pressure banging closer. I fake happiness for those around me. I pretend I can, I am the ultimate liar, because my angel face lets me get away with it. I talk to strangers, I let them believe I care. I help little kids when they're stuck. But children can see evil. They know when something is bad. I'd say the world owes me something, but I've given it nothing. I'd tell you all to fuck off but you wouldn't understand. I'd tell you I love you all, but I'd be lying again. This seems like an ending note, but it strikes me as a beginning. The beginning of time. A time when the stars don't fall, the skies are blue, the air clean. I don't care about anything. The shallows of my mind grow deeper. The black aura I see around myself won't change. The shroud of darkness killing all good near me. Stealing lines from peoples minds. I am the strangest one of all. No one can beat the incomprehensible anger from me, caused by nothing, cured by nothing. The truth is out there but we can't find it because it's not for us to know. No one knows the truth about anyone, all we know is we think we are who we want to be. How's that for deep. We buy the rights to endless love, but we don't know what to do with it. I say you can shove it up your ass, cause it'll do you as much good there as anywhere. A soured expression. When will it change? The world is a vomiting hell hole filled with shit and fuck ups who can't make up their mind so they become lawyers and business people. The only ones who can make up their minds are the artists, but that's only cause they don't have to . Music, paint, writing, it's all empty feelings, stories laid out by the unqualified, cause that's all we are. I am sorrow untold. I'm the empty headed child who is vaguely aware of what is around him, but can't tell why. The vampirific world sucks you're will and minds until you are just another zombie running free through the schedule they impose. Try breaking free, you can't. Even in death they have you with their religion. It's their way of explaining death. You die, your body ceases all function. THAT'S ALL FOLKS!! God shmod. A poem turned editorial. We are following the empty cycle that they put us through. Fate has no rein. The ending is one we chose. The ripping haters of a scary child. The crazy calls of a lunatic. The only sane one among us is the nut. Can you guess who it is? Try playing sorrow for all it's worth. The world hasn't caught on to what we want to say. I am the voice, but can I be enough. I am sick of hugs when I say something sad. I am sick of pity when things don't go right at home. I am sick of you all pretending you like each other. Say "I hate you" Goddamnit. Don't play along. It's the last year you say, but it's not. We'll all look back on this year and remember our "friends". You don't want them to remember you, and then call you up, reminiscing about the old times, trying to weasel their way back into you're lives. You all think you're high and mighty. But you don't realize that other people think the same thing about you. It's like a hate triangle. Person one hates you(or doesn't even remember who you are), you hate person two, person two likes you, and you like person one. It all comes back to you. It's funny how we are all tied together. Brain clouds get in the way. The only way to get rid of them is to blow up. JUST EXPLODE. You must save your self from all that you think is safe. Bobby dropped off the face of the earth, I wish I could do that. Not be Mandy for a day, but just a spot on the wall. Watch everyone without having to be nice. A break from the everyday. JUST DO IT. I don't recognize anyone from around here anymore. Everyone is just a spot on a big wall and every now and then something bigger than us comes along and cleans up part of the wall and we call it a disaster. I think its great. A cleansing brought on by mother nature. If only it didn't kill the innocent. Just the conceited, and the every day fuckup. I hate it when you have something to say and no one will listen. Some day I'm going to make everyone listen to me. I'm gonna start with you and tell you everything I hate about you all. Someday. BLUNT. Often referred to as rude. I think it's honest. Sparing feelings. P-shaw. Nobody really cares about sparing feelings, just their own asses. I think bluntness should be a way of life. I'm tired of pretending, so I wont anymore. Someday. Somebody once said that we start to die the moment we are born. I guess some people just die faster than others. The best thing you can do is hang around a while.