Wait, Listen, Crumble

You can't watch the frail syrup drip off the lip of a harlequin's manequin that wears a dress down to her knees. You can't watch it knowing that you're going to have to sweep up the remains of a shattered glass in the end. Fourteen different things could be flying through the air at the time but when you're focusing on it, that one trouble, there's not a whole lot else that can catch your attention. It's beautiful and it's strange and there's nothing in the world that could bother you more. It's something that you've thought about for oh-so-long and it's getting closer closer closer gone. Now you've got something to think about.

You can sleep on it sit on it think on it but not give a fuck. Just all day, thinking watching waiting for some amazing inuendo that fits perfectly in the puzzle of how all of this means anything to you in this big black place. Where did you go wrong? What did you finally do to fuck everything up again? You couldn't possibly be perfect. There's always something wrong wrong wrong. It's all your fault because you just couldn't fucking look away. That frail syrup dripping off the lap dance lapel of the rich man "GOD" calling out names to be pleased. You watched, and you waited, and you lost. You can't fix everything, and you'd be stupid to try to. Did I mention that you've never been too bright. You're not that smart, not smart at all, you always manage to FUCK UP. Y'know I don't blame your parents. They love you, they're spectacular, but you deserve the shit you get and there's no reason you should be complaining so much.

This is your pilot speaking. Please remove your left hand from your forehead, as this is merely an illusion. You're head doesn't hurt on account of a headache, and massaging it won't make anything feel better. Your head hurts because you can't stop worrying and it just keeps turning in circles and is gradualing boring yet another hole in your psyche. Don't worry, it'll go nicely with the hole she left. yes yes yes. You remember that hole she left, the one that made you a "good person" that one that made you start worrying about every little thing? That's the hole I'm talking about, and that's the one that's gonna be hurting. Your psyche, not your head. This is your pilot speaking, and I would please ask you to remove your hand from your forehead, you look like a fucking tool.

Do I think I'm a big man because I bear down on some  one like this. Well, I guess I'm doing something counterproductive, because the more I tear into you, the more you barret yourself and the more I have to pick on. This is just fantastic, being the man in the back of your head, kicking your cortex until you've got nothing left to think about but all the shit you've done wrong. Do you want me to come clean clean crystal clear with you right now? You should not be with her. What is she doing with a insolent little fuck like you? You're fat, you've got no idea when to shut up, and you're stupid trying to please everyone is just taking time away from her. Seriously, you have to give up on her old friends, they're not here for you anyway, they're just silhouettes of the former you. I liked him better regardless, he used to yell at people and call them out when they were nervous. I liked him.

You've gotta give it up kid. Just straight up off the edge and let me help you push because quite frankly you're a waste of space. Even I can see that to be completely honest and crystley-crystal clear with you. Yes yes yes oh yes you're just a filthy waste of space, and I hope everyone lets you know just how much they hate you in the next coming days. Honestly!! You can't expect so much from people. They're all going to call you out on how unreal you are. Oh but I have to stop pissing you off now, looks like you're off to work, and then to work. Work work work, do you ever stop?