What glory is manipulation
No heart on this sleeve
Just hypocritical contempt
Don't tell me how this bends and folds
One day all this bending will make us
Break
Are you confusing the impact and the cause
As the world turns starts stops
On a dime
That's not worth ten cents any more
Illusive scandal
Elusive stutter
A scandal and a stutter
And bleach on a sheet that used to be red
Blood red
Anthem to the Nameless
A Rock, a Stick, a Cape, & that Inescapable Time
If you haven't read Harry Potter, then we have a huge personality conflict. Namely, I think you should get a new one. JK...Rowling. You know I love you. Jeez.
I need to get out of the Stream of Consciousness mood, 'cause this isn't it. Anyway, if you haven't read Harry Potter, then this won't make much sense to you. Not that I make that much sense anyway. Gah, I'm such a dork. And when I just started to type "such," I typed "sushi" instead. I might erase this part.
Third try: If you've read HP & the Deathly Hallows, you're familiar with, erm, the Deathly Hallows. Probably. The way J.K.R. has each character select a certain Hallow is a completely overlooked and ingenious sublety, in my opinion. Harry picks the Resurrection Stone. Of course - Harry, who has lost the most to Death; Harry, who has watched his parents, his godfather, his friends, and his two heros die; Harry, who is tormented by his dead mother's voice...of course he picks the stone. Let's be honest: who wouldn't, if they were in his position?
Ron opts for the raw power of the Elder Wand, which makes perfect sense. Forever marked as Harry Potter's best friend and the little brother of a Quidditch prodigy, a dragon keeper, a Ministry of Magic protege (who is also kind of a jerk, though), two hilarious entreprenuers, and the lone female with the wicked Bat Bogey Hex, why wouldn't Ron seek a little power?
And, Hermione, of course, makes the smartest choice. After all, she is the female. Haha. Anyway.
It all begs the question (PEMS hanging anecdote): what would you pick? "You" being code for "me." I would pick the cloak. And not just because that's what you're supposed to do, although, to be fair, that may weigh in a bit. And I wouldn't choose it for the reason you'd think either. Not to escape Death myself, but to give to someone I truly love - my mom. My dad. My friends. As weird as it may seem, I have absolutely zero fears about dying. Why fear the inevitable? What really terrifies me is the people I love dying, although, I suppose, this too is inevitable.
The stone, I suppose, would be a valid arguement for the same reason. But I wouldn't want a hollow shell.
I guess the person would have to live under the cloak - I mean, Death doesn't give us much warning. And I guess I couldn't save both of my parents. I couldn't possibly choose. They'd stay together. They belong together. In many ways. But, personally, I would hate to live under a cloak - it'd be like the difference between Living and just hiding from Death. I would rather die. But I don't want my friends or family to die. Ever. Maybe I'm being selfish. No, no, I know what you're thinking: No, Taylor! Of course you're not being selfish! You're the best! I know, I know. I am pretty awesome. No wonder you worship me.
Mmmmm. Sushi.
I need to get out of the Stream of Consciousness mood, 'cause this isn't it. Anyway, if you haven't read Harry Potter, then this won't make much sense to you. Not that I make that much sense anyway. Gah, I'm such a dork. And when I just started to type "such," I typed "sushi" instead. I might erase this part.
Third try: If you've read HP & the Deathly Hallows, you're familiar with, erm, the Deathly Hallows. Probably. The way J.K.R. has each character select a certain Hallow is a completely overlooked and ingenious sublety, in my opinion. Harry picks the Resurrection Stone. Of course - Harry, who has lost the most to Death; Harry, who has watched his parents, his godfather, his friends, and his two heros die; Harry, who is tormented by his dead mother's voice...of course he picks the stone. Let's be honest: who wouldn't, if they were in his position?
Ron opts for the raw power of the Elder Wand, which makes perfect sense. Forever marked as Harry Potter's best friend and the little brother of a Quidditch prodigy, a dragon keeper, a Ministry of Magic protege (who is also kind of a jerk, though), two hilarious entreprenuers, and the lone female with the wicked Bat Bogey Hex, why wouldn't Ron seek a little power?
And, Hermione, of course, makes the smartest choice. After all, she is the female. Haha. Anyway.
It all begs the question (PEMS hanging anecdote): what would you pick? "You" being code for "me." I would pick the cloak. And not just because that's what you're supposed to do, although, to be fair, that may weigh in a bit. And I wouldn't choose it for the reason you'd think either. Not to escape Death myself, but to give to someone I truly love - my mom. My dad. My friends. As weird as it may seem, I have absolutely zero fears about dying. Why fear the inevitable? What really terrifies me is the people I love dying, although, I suppose, this too is inevitable.
The stone, I suppose, would be a valid arguement for the same reason. But I wouldn't want a hollow shell.
I guess the person would have to live under the cloak - I mean, Death doesn't give us much warning. And I guess I couldn't save both of my parents. I couldn't possibly choose. They'd stay together. They belong together. In many ways. But, personally, I would hate to live under a cloak - it'd be like the difference between Living and just hiding from Death. I would rather die. But I don't want my friends or family to die. Ever. Maybe I'm being selfish. No, no, I know what you're thinking: No, Taylor! Of course you're not being selfish! You're the best! I know, I know. I am pretty awesome. No wonder you worship me.
Mmmmm. Sushi.
Plea: to the Apathetic
Where is it? That insatiable lust for life? Aren’t you ecstatic to be alive?
Just look around you and oh my gods. Pulsing, vibrant, unpredictable, dynamic, turbulent, beautiful, changing, dizzying, captivating...do you really have nothing to say? There is so much, so much to say. So much to do. So much to be. And all you can say is "yeah," or "kay," or "mk," or "whatever?"
Don't you SEE?! The world is HERE! You should have so much to say that you don't know where to start and the words tumble over each other, so much that your life is an endless chase of stars, of too many, too much, yet: more, more, more; carpe, carpe diem. You should SCREAM your dreams and hopes and failures at the waning moon. You should CRAVE another adrenaline rush. You should FEEL your blood sing when you gaze upon the raging waters of the Atlantic, upon the glorious aurora borealis, upon the never-ending, gorgeous truth that is in you, in me.
Seize, grab, reach, YEARN! yearn for truth, for the brutal hand that grabs us, tears us from our mundane materialism and makes us free, that forces upon us the truth that liberates us.
For once, just live. You won't be able to go back. Because you are so, so, so, so much bigger than the life that you are living.
Don’t you, don't you, don't you want to GO? To reach, struggle, suffer, cry, almost fail (almost, almost, ALMOST fail) and then GO?!
You should have so much to say that you don't make sense.
Just look around you and oh my gods. Pulsing, vibrant, unpredictable, dynamic, turbulent, beautiful, changing, dizzying, captivating...do you really have nothing to say? There is so much, so much to say. So much to do. So much to be. And all you can say is "yeah," or "kay," or "mk," or "whatever?"
Don't you SEE?! The world is HERE! You should have so much to say that you don't know where to start and the words tumble over each other, so much that your life is an endless chase of stars, of too many, too much, yet: more, more, more; carpe, carpe diem. You should SCREAM your dreams and hopes and failures at the waning moon. You should CRAVE another adrenaline rush. You should FEEL your blood sing when you gaze upon the raging waters of the Atlantic, upon the glorious aurora borealis, upon the never-ending, gorgeous truth that is in you, in me.
Seize, grab, reach, YEARN! yearn for truth, for the brutal hand that grabs us, tears us from our mundane materialism and makes us free, that forces upon us the truth that liberates us.
For once, just live. You won't be able to go back. Because you are so, so, so, so much bigger than the life that you are living.
Don’t you, don't you, don't you want to GO? To reach, struggle, suffer, cry, almost fail (almost, almost, ALMOST fail) and then GO?!
You should have so much to say that you don't make sense.
A Personification of Fear
She is still. Her hollow eyes lack the spark of purpose. Her delicate face is devoid of all emotion. Her chest does not move with the gentle rise and fall of the breath that keeps us going, keeps us moving. The only sign that she is alive is the tap of her foot. Methodically, detachedly, it just keeps tapping…tapping. And all else ceases to exist, and the wheels of life stop turning, and sands of time blow away, and the nothingness around her denies her very existence, and she is still. Time has stopped. She is alone.
A figure emerges from the oblivion, and Fate approaches. She shrinks back, afraid. Above all, she fears losing control. She does not want to be a pawn in a bigger configuration, she does not want to, does not want to.
And suddenly, all of eternity is one, and we are here, and we are there, and all creation is ecstatic in its joined exhilaration, and as the world thrives as one, as our very blood sings, she, she is forgotten. But the steady beat of her foot keeps tapping...tapping...
A figure emerges from the oblivion, and Fate approaches. She shrinks back, afraid. Above all, she fears losing control. She does not want to be a pawn in a bigger configuration, she does not want to, does not want to.
And suddenly, all of eternity is one, and we are here, and we are there, and all creation is ecstatic in its joined exhilaration, and as the world thrives as one, as our very blood sings, she, she is forgotten. But the steady beat of her foot keeps tapping...tapping...
.01%
99.9% of the time, I love not making sense. 99.9% of the time, I absolutely adore being the quirky individual, the Shakespeare nerd with the fiery passion, the loud one, the outrageous one, the life of the party.
But, there's that .01% of the time. Sometimes I wish that, for once in my life, I would just make sense to someone other than myself. I mean, come on. How pitiful of a sentence is that? Don't answer that.
For once, I'd love to endlessly muse about make-up or Twilight or who's cute without yearning instead for intense conversations about wanderlust, metaphysical connections, Napoleon Bonaparte, and, well, kind of the meaning of life. I want someone who will change tracks with me when I can't finish a word because another sentence spills out because there is so much - so much to do! So much to say! I want it to make sense to someone: the pure uninhibited joy of swinging on a playground, the unbridled beauty of a photograph in black and white, the adrenilane rush. I want someone to understand why I dream about flying.
I read Milton in my spare time. I'm taking two APs and four Honors my junior year. I have an IQ off the chart, have read every classic you can throw at me, and truly enjoy chemistry, algebra, and literature. But I can't read an analog clock, I don't know how to tie my shoes right, and sometimes I have to ask what month it is.
Is there another fiesty, short firecracker who's 2/3 quirk and 1/3 jerk? I am. I want to be the girl who no one can look at without wondering what it is that makes her so happy all the time; the girl who can always brighten your day, even when she can't brighten her own. Unfortunately, I'm a jerk most of the time.
An aberration? I think so.
I'm in a constant losing battle with gravity. I run into walls for attention. I'm here to save the world from making sense, and I do a good job. I sing Christmas carols in March, fabricate acronyms unabashadely, and love unconditionally. My favorite place is on top of my friend's car. I love to say "you had to be there," but in reality, I make so little sense, being there rarely helps even remotely. I can find sentimental value in a rubber band if it means I don't have to throw it away. I love Legos and Play Doh. I'd rather have a red Jeep Wrangler than get married. I leap before I look, am emotionally attached to my iPod, and still wear a mood ring that I got in fourth grade. I think out loud. To me, red says "go," not "stop." I make references to Greek mythology. I don’t ever get cold. Ever. But my parents make me lug around a coat so people don't report them to social services. I find this humorous. Until it happens.
To me, everything is super. Superbad. Superawesome. Superhot. Supercold. Superyummy.
I don't know.
And I want someone else to admit that they don't know, either.
Well...
At least I make sense to myself. Sometimes.
But, there's that .01% of the time. Sometimes I wish that, for once in my life, I would just make sense to someone other than myself. I mean, come on. How pitiful of a sentence is that? Don't answer that.
For once, I'd love to endlessly muse about make-up or Twilight or who's cute without yearning instead for intense conversations about wanderlust, metaphysical connections, Napoleon Bonaparte, and, well, kind of the meaning of life. I want someone who will change tracks with me when I can't finish a word because another sentence spills out because there is so much - so much to do! So much to say! I want it to make sense to someone: the pure uninhibited joy of swinging on a playground, the unbridled beauty of a photograph in black and white, the adrenilane rush. I want someone to understand why I dream about flying.
I read Milton in my spare time. I'm taking two APs and four Honors my junior year. I have an IQ off the chart, have read every classic you can throw at me, and truly enjoy chemistry, algebra, and literature. But I can't read an analog clock, I don't know how to tie my shoes right, and sometimes I have to ask what month it is.
Is there another fiesty, short firecracker who's 2/3 quirk and 1/3 jerk? I am. I want to be the girl who no one can look at without wondering what it is that makes her so happy all the time; the girl who can always brighten your day, even when she can't brighten her own. Unfortunately, I'm a jerk most of the time.
An aberration? I think so.
I'm in a constant losing battle with gravity. I run into walls for attention. I'm here to save the world from making sense, and I do a good job. I sing Christmas carols in March, fabricate acronyms unabashadely, and love unconditionally. My favorite place is on top of my friend's car. I love to say "you had to be there," but in reality, I make so little sense, being there rarely helps even remotely. I can find sentimental value in a rubber band if it means I don't have to throw it away. I love Legos and Play Doh. I'd rather have a red Jeep Wrangler than get married. I leap before I look, am emotionally attached to my iPod, and still wear a mood ring that I got in fourth grade. I think out loud. To me, red says "go," not "stop." I make references to Greek mythology. I don’t ever get cold. Ever. But my parents make me lug around a coat so people don't report them to social services. I find this humorous. Until it happens.
To me, everything is super. Superbad. Superawesome. Superhot. Supercold. Superyummy.
I don't know.
And I want someone else to admit that they don't know, either.
Well...
At least I make sense to myself. Sometimes.
Stick it to the Man - SOC
stick it, stick it, stick it to the man.
STICK IT TO THE MAN.
STICK IT TO THE SYSTEM.
STICK IT TO THE MAN.
are you ready? yeah? yeah? you ready? lets go.
count the seasons, count them count them,
when fire turns to ashes & skies turn to grey. the night keeps closing in on the Day.
cliche cliche.
it was a normal day until...makes me sick. days arent normal, not for me.
so when your life flashes before your eyes, make sure its worth watching.
MAKEDAMNSURE.
but hey maybe its not the end. maybe this is the beginning. and its the beginning that we will start with so
stick it to the man, man. stick it to THE SYSTEM.
tie my shoelace. oil my engine. SAVE ME, HURT ME, a moment in eternity thats so beaui exqusite it's painful..
its like, its like that moment in time: that one moment. like the dirty shoes you love too
much to ever throw away because you've worn them so much & when they were brand new you hardly
ever took them out of the box becuse they were so pretty...so pretty you couldnt bear to
ruin them but as you wore them more and more they fit you like a home.
I want to be those shoes to you. i want to be the surgeon who cuts you open and fixes
all of life's mistakes.
or even like that terrible wonderful turbulent moment when a son is finally taller than his father
are you are you don't you want to go?
I was really upset when there was no Armageddon because they've told us the end of the world was already hear...
hear? on 6/6/06 & now Nostradamus is sitting in his tub sipping chai latte & laughing at us because it was all fiction
and he was really just a crazed nut who didnt date enough in high school....
3 weeks, 2 days, 1 minute
and 1234 i declare a thumb war...stick it...stick it to the MAN. the SYSTEM. the MAN. god?
12345678910IWIN.
& so what? I'm still a rockstar? i got my rock moves? and i dont need you? and guess what? im having more fun
more fun morphun morphine morphine I know a man who changed his name but couldnt change himself he never quite
figured out how to deal with what life had dealt so he stuck a needle in his arm to calm his Handsome Hell
nostradamus..come out and play
I've heard the same words bantered thru the city night after night after...its getting far too late out
paper planes paper planes...
THIS IS A PAPERCLIP CONUNDRUM.
were all paperclip people & believe me cause ive seen it before that one day all this bending will make us break. i think youre
confusing the impact with her cause as the world spins starts stops on a dime thats not worth 10 cents anymore. no cents.
no sense. nonsense.
WAIT. There's more sovereign demands...
you're just a paperclip to me, and one day, one day ill make you break.
elusive scandal, illusive stutter. a scandal & a stutter. and bleach on a sheet that used to be
red,
blood red.
such a brave new world. eh, adoplhus? eh? bet you were buds with
Nostradamus. BFFs. biffs. miffs. myths.
like the world is ending, the world is ending TODAY and nostradamus is
still laughing laughing getting the bath salts laughing and....
today is the tommorrow we worried about yesterday. STICK
today is a winding road that's taking me to places i dont wanna go STICK IT
today is the first day of the rest of my life STICK IT TO
today i saw a boy wonder if he noticed me; he took my breath away STICK IT TO THE
today, we are gathered to join these souls in holy communion...STICK IT TO THE MAN, man, man man
MAN UP. be a man. and rub some dirt in it. Pain is weakness leaving the body. dont be a sissy dont be a wimp. dont be a wimp.
stick it girl 10 10 10. you earned it. walk it off walk it off. you broke your arm not your leg. just WIN ok? thats all im asking
from you
just
WIN.
so real surreal. all you have to do is live. live and be okay. oh please just live for me. i love you. we've done it before.
by default, we can do it again.
loop.
hey. hey she said to me on the subway as she jostled me out of the way to get on before the old crippled man who was there
first. and i want to say HEY! he was there first but all i get to is hey just hey before the man just walks away...hey,
slow down...
hey. hey come back i want to help you, man. no he says no you just want to stick it TO THE MAN.
thats what i want. all i want is for you to stick it to the man. really. you dont even have to have to win.
dont even have to win. just STICK IT STICK IT. just STICK IT TO THE MAN. STICK it to the man. stick IT to the man.
stick it TO the man. stick it to THE man. stick it to the MAN.
im short just like my temper.
good? god.
but hey, maybe this isnt the end. maybe this is the beginning...& it's the beginning that we will start with...
---
Lyrics from Within Temptation, Bright Eyes, P!nk, Boys Like Girls, Britney Spears, and Brand New are used with no intent of copyright infringement and no claim of personal work. If you own this copyright and want me to remove these lyrics, contact me, and I will do so. Really. Please, please do so. Call me, Conor. Please.
STICK IT TO THE MAN.
STICK IT TO THE SYSTEM.
STICK IT TO THE MAN.
are you ready? yeah? yeah? you ready? lets go.
count the seasons, count them count them,
when fire turns to ashes & skies turn to grey. the night keeps closing in on the Day.
cliche cliche.
it was a normal day until...makes me sick. days arent normal, not for me.
so when your life flashes before your eyes, make sure its worth watching.
MAKEDAMNSURE.
but hey maybe its not the end. maybe this is the beginning. and its the beginning that we will start with so
stick it to the man, man. stick it to THE SYSTEM.
tie my shoelace. oil my engine. SAVE ME, HURT ME, a moment in eternity thats so beaui exqusite it's painful..
its like, its like that moment in time: that one moment. like the dirty shoes you love too
much to ever throw away because you've worn them so much & when they were brand new you hardly
ever took them out of the box becuse they were so pretty...so pretty you couldnt bear to
ruin them but as you wore them more and more they fit you like a home.
I want to be those shoes to you. i want to be the surgeon who cuts you open and fixes
all of life's mistakes.
or even like that terrible wonderful turbulent moment when a son is finally taller than his father
are you are you don't you want to go?
I was really upset when there was no Armageddon because they've told us the end of the world was already hear...
hear? on 6/6/06 & now Nostradamus is sitting in his tub sipping chai latte & laughing at us because it was all fiction
and he was really just a crazed nut who didnt date enough in high school....
3 weeks, 2 days, 1 minute
and 1234 i declare a thumb war...stick it...stick it to the MAN. the SYSTEM. the MAN. god?
12345678910IWIN.
& so what? I'm still a rockstar? i got my rock moves? and i dont need you? and guess what? im having more fun
more fun morphun morphine morphine I know a man who changed his name but couldnt change himself he never quite
figured out how to deal with what life had dealt so he stuck a needle in his arm to calm his Handsome Hell
nostradamus..come out and play
I've heard the same words bantered thru the city night after night after...its getting far too late out
paper planes paper planes...
THIS IS A PAPERCLIP CONUNDRUM.
were all paperclip people & believe me cause ive seen it before that one day all this bending will make us break. i think youre
confusing the impact with her cause as the world spins starts stops on a dime thats not worth 10 cents anymore. no cents.
no sense. nonsense.
WAIT. There's more sovereign demands...
you're just a paperclip to me, and one day, one day ill make you break.
elusive scandal, illusive stutter. a scandal & a stutter. and bleach on a sheet that used to be
red,
blood red.
such a brave new world. eh, adoplhus? eh? bet you were buds with
Nostradamus. BFFs. biffs. miffs. myths.
like the world is ending, the world is ending TODAY and nostradamus is
still laughing laughing getting the bath salts laughing and....
today is the tommorrow we worried about yesterday. STICK
today is a winding road that's taking me to places i dont wanna go STICK IT
today is the first day of the rest of my life STICK IT TO
today i saw a boy wonder if he noticed me; he took my breath away STICK IT TO THE
today, we are gathered to join these souls in holy communion...STICK IT TO THE MAN, man, man man
MAN UP. be a man. and rub some dirt in it. Pain is weakness leaving the body. dont be a sissy dont be a wimp. dont be a wimp.
stick it girl 10 10 10. you earned it. walk it off walk it off. you broke your arm not your leg. just WIN ok? thats all im asking
from you
just
WIN.
so real surreal. all you have to do is live. live and be okay. oh please just live for me. i love you. we've done it before.
by default, we can do it again.
loop.
hey. hey she said to me on the subway as she jostled me out of the way to get on before the old crippled man who was there
first. and i want to say HEY! he was there first but all i get to is hey just hey before the man just walks away...hey,
slow down...
hey. hey come back i want to help you, man. no he says no you just want to stick it TO THE MAN.
thats what i want. all i want is for you to stick it to the man. really. you dont even have to have to win.
dont even have to win. just STICK IT STICK IT. just STICK IT TO THE MAN. STICK it to the man. stick IT to the man.
stick it TO the man. stick it to THE man. stick it to the MAN.
im short just like my temper.
good? god.
but hey, maybe this isnt the end. maybe this is the beginning...& it's the beginning that we will start with...
---
Lyrics from Within Temptation, Bright Eyes, P!nk, Boys Like Girls, Britney Spears, and Brand New are used with no intent of copyright infringement and no claim of personal work. If you own this copyright and want me to remove these lyrics, contact me, and I will do so. Really. Please, please do so. Call me, Conor. Please.
You've Changed, Hypocrite
I want to keep going places and not coming back and you want to stay where you are...fester, forever, content in your mundane clichés. YOU'VE CHANGED. I want to see the world, and you want to see a mirror. And maybe you've yet to see (I’m sure you'd be happy to never) but a mirror always shows you the same thing; and you'll never change like this again. Who do you think you are to snatch the body of a person I knew and mold - shape - tear apart with known intentions. YOU'VE CHANGED. I loved you. Maybe before I wanted to take the -ed off that word but it's impossible now because I hate this. YOU'VE CHANGED. If you thought it'd gain you a head turn to step on someone you claim you love, you'd do it, wouldn't you? I’ve seen you do it. You’d do it. You’d do it all. You’re so FAKE, so twisted; I can't even find the person I loved. And maybe one day all of this bending and shaping will make you break, and I’ll be there - no, I’ll be gone, gone with the path to the heart of the deepest jungle, raging the dead calm waters of the Atlantic, gone! forever, when you finally realize that YOU'VE CHANGED.
As the night closes in on the day, you tell your last lie and HYPOCRITE…you better hide from my freezing HELL! Hideawayrunaway you better run before I find you. And when I do, you better scream you’re sorry, you better LIE, lie like you always do, lie to my face when I know the truth…run away, hide away. HYPOCRITE. I’ve no mercy left; I used it all trying to save you from yourself. So you better run, you better hide, you better cower from the lies you’ve created in me. TELL ME: did you realize who you were stepping on? Oh, right…you did. I saw it in your eyes, you filthy, disguising, twisted HYPOCRITE. Freeze or burn, I don’t care. I’m done trying to make you see what you’ve become. I swear, I don’t care. Go fake and scream and lie and FALL. Fall like you deserve, you filthy fake. But don’t let your body fall in my path, because I promise you, I. Am. Done. Get out of my way, you narcissistic, egotistical, shallow, vain, manipulative, stupid, incompetent, ignorant, two-faced, uncaring, insignificant, bratty, self-pitying, contemptuous, bigoted, self-obsessed, ostentatious, fake, idiotic, self-absorbed, nasty, vile, twisted, narrow-minded, back-stabbing, judgmental, arrogant, attention-seeking, hypocritical, slutty, selfish, conceited, conniving, trampish, deceitful, self-centered, revolting, intolerant, insufferable, unimportant, nauseating cretin. GET OUT OF MY WAY.
As the night closes in on the day, you tell your last lie and HYPOCRITE…you better hide from my freezing HELL! Hideawayrunaway you better run before I find you. And when I do, you better scream you’re sorry, you better LIE, lie like you always do, lie to my face when I know the truth…run away, hide away. HYPOCRITE. I’ve no mercy left; I used it all trying to save you from yourself. So you better run, you better hide, you better cower from the lies you’ve created in me. TELL ME: did you realize who you were stepping on? Oh, right…you did. I saw it in your eyes, you filthy, disguising, twisted HYPOCRITE. Freeze or burn, I don’t care. I’m done trying to make you see what you’ve become. I swear, I don’t care. Go fake and scream and lie and FALL. Fall like you deserve, you filthy fake. But don’t let your body fall in my path, because I promise you, I. Am. Done. Get out of my way, you narcissistic, egotistical, shallow, vain, manipulative, stupid, incompetent, ignorant, two-faced, uncaring, insignificant, bratty, self-pitying, contemptuous, bigoted, self-obsessed, ostentatious, fake, idiotic, self-absorbed, nasty, vile, twisted, narrow-minded, back-stabbing, judgmental, arrogant, attention-seeking, hypocritical, slutty, selfish, conceited, conniving, trampish, deceitful, self-centered, revolting, intolerant, insufferable, unimportant, nauseating cretin. GET OUT OF MY WAY.
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