Curses walk among us. disguised as streaks of bad luck or even disguised as angels. Listen not to the song of the Siren for the ship will crash upon shallow rocks. The Siren speaks of true love and wants to take every human man to their underwater castle, but too foolish to consider the fact that man cannot breathe underwater. They entice us with happiness then murder us with stupidity.
How do you explain your new found whoribble antics? Don’t bother. You cast a small shadow and offer a dance with mine. Then like a monkey, you let go of a branch and grab onto another, and throw your feces for fun. spit them out even. You aim at DJ’s, musicians, photographers, and artists, and you do it with elegant splendor. But for a moment, let’s just wake up and smell the bananas; everyone’s a fucking DJ, musician, photographer, or artist! Band of brothers and band with each other’s ex-wives, and have a fecal-spitting party. I’ll be the guest of honor and grace you notable due- applause to your indecision, indiscretion. No one knows you still call me baby, and whisper sugary sweet nothings into my ear. Especially when your targets leave you feeling lonely. Do you know why that is? It’s because you know I’d come running to your whistle like a loyal dog. That’s called taking someone for granted. Just because I made a mistake a long time ago doesn’t give you the right to execute cruel and unusual punishment to me whenever you please. You already know I’d come at the snap of your finger, wagging my tail, and you know I’ve long since paid my dues for leaving my own business on the french moss carpet.
Now, since know one knows you still talk to me, who are you going to vent to about this? I’ll just tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to call up one of the men you call, then proceed with a subtle, yet noticeable stir in your candor. The man will ask you of what ails you, but you don’t tell them. because you can’t. Because to fully understand the caliber what ails you, you’d have to reveal to him that he is and was never the only man you gave your sweet precious model citizen time to. In fact, Poor soul, he cares so much about you, but cursed to never understand how to comfort you. But who gave you the authority, to kill him in the first degree? And autre Misguided Soul, you think the arms of variety offer you warmth and security? No dear one, you’re naked and playing basketball on the court of men, Tick-tock, you’re the sweaty basketball itself, shoots, passes, dunks, dribbles.You like being bounced by everyone though, the attention has got to feel what you think to be ‘fulfilling’.
I was never good at sports anyway, I’ll watch the game and root for both teams to lose. There is one thing that I have noticed. I was the only one who knew your antics. I knew when you lied, I knew when you cried. I knew every time and location the serpent shed it’s skin. And I still loved and hunted you. And you knew when I was on your trail, led me in a circle among the forest, and swallowed me whole from behind. Bravo! Well played old chap. You’ve really gone off the deep end, and this whole time I thought I could save you. I thought I could help you bring your soul back. But I failed to see one tiny insignificunt fact you’ve been conveying; You didn’t want it back. You justify being a carousel by saying you spin on your soul’s pendulum. Then you spin on everyone else’s pendulum. Oi Vey, do you hear that? song’s of the Siren that she had only meant to sing for herself, we’re all attracted to it because it sounds pretty but fuck. those rocks are sharp, deadly, and can cut a ship of any size down. All the poor souls you’ve been collecting are never going to pay for your hollow happiness.
and who do I think I am to decide that she’s wrong.