“a god damned rest day, but you got no rest! The fans keep you cool because your heart beats too fast. And when you walk down the street and you click and you scroll, you scream: I’m not in control! I’m not in control! I’m a fool…”
You took my money, you. I’m going to kill you, you. I had a couple of drinks and I’m sobering up, and I want you to know: I’m a shark, and I’ll bite you.
I’ll write you into a demon and put your face on a billboard. I’ll write you into a demon so that everyone knows, for all of life and eternity: your face is a chore! And they’ll know you alright, they’ll spit on your likeness; they’ll curse you in dreams, and then they’ll drop you just like it never was… when the trend is over and there’s something better to say, to chit chat the day away.
But if you ever come back, they’ll say “Hey I know you! Aren’t you that clown, no– that demon! I saw on youtube?”
That’s just a thought. Your life’s still a bore. you walk down the street because there’s not much else to live for. you can find meaning still! have another glass! do a little dance and say something silly for the class! They’ll laugh for a bit, they’ll say “Who the fuck even are you?” But the nice thing is that your game will live on in the room.
You’d like to be the devil! That’s the best role in the script. But you’re the type of guy to see success and say “How come she gets it?” Why don’t you get a turn? Why didn’t they pick you? SHUT the fuck up, it’s not planned, it’s just truth. Nobody decided who is where or what is when. They happened, they actioned– and that is the end.
So why don’t you tip another beer back? You’ll be happy for awhile. At the very least you’ll push off this hate for awhile. You might lean back in your seat and you’ll smile, because everyone is interesting when your mind is silent.