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Let me talk to you about being a living breathing human scar. Let me tell you about the childhood that was screwed me big time. Let me give you these gifts, these big useless gifts that I give everybody.
Let me talk again. I'm good with words, I can write. That doesn't mean it's true. But I can write, so people are going to listen. It's like having a loudspeaker. Nobody has a choice.
Let me tell you that I'm so sedated, so moulded into my mask, that I don't feel anything. I don't hate. I can't love, try try try as I might. I just can't. Just let me tell you. Just tell me I'm special. I used to be.
Really, I did. My mum was a childcarer, as well as having four children of her own. She had to be, we needed the money. How it works is that rich people pay her money and thier children come to live at my house for the day. I don't blame her, but Jebus christ, when there's any number of random kids coming to your house every day and sharing your mum, you're bound to crave attention.
And I do.
I do want attention. Even to now, this day. It's what I live for. It makes me happy and it makes me sad. I'm screwed. Everything comes down to that, it is my center. Everything is about attention.
I suck.
> And black glove - yes I am serious. I posted the movie on here - did
> you miss it? I canna be arsed to put it back online, captain.
Missed it. You're obviously a bit of a loony toon then, which when all is said and done, is probably a good thing ;)
I'm OK now.
> I love attantion too, and I get it in constructive ways. You have all
> seen me in Tescos with a cushion on my head dancing to chariots of
> fire and then in KFC to dancing queen by Abba.
>
> I got attention. I filmed it. I made people laugh. I made myself and
> others feel...Happy.
-
"You cannot be serious?"
[John McEnroe, circa 1983]
Or is it just a poem.
If it is true then im sorry to hear that.
Let me talk to you about being a living breathing human scar. Let me tell you about the childhood that was screwed me big time. Let me give you these gifts, these big useless gifts that I give everybody.
Let me talk again. I'm good with words, I can write. That doesn't mean it's true. But I can write, so people are going to listen. It's like having a loudspeaker. Nobody has a choice.
Let me tell you that I'm so sedated, so moulded into my mask, that I don't feel anything. I don't hate. I can't love, try try try as I might. I just can't. Just let me tell you. Just tell me I'm special. I used to be.
Really, I did. My mum was a childcarer, as well as having four children of her own. She had to be, we needed the money. How it works is that rich people pay her money and thier children come to live at my house for the day. I don't blame her, but Jebus christ, when there's any number of random kids coming to your house every day and sharing your mum, you're bound to crave attention.
And I do.
I do want attention. Even to now, this day. It's what I live for. It makes me happy and it makes me sad. I'm screwed. Everything comes down to that, it is my center. Everything is about attention.
I suck.