Stoic, unmoving and dead- that is how I felt right now, the world moving all around me, death and destruction yet I sat unmoving, an addict of my own doing.
Do not mistake me for a heroin, coke or crack addict, I did not indulge in such feeble vices, my poison was something much more ancient, it was devastatingly glorious and now I’m paying the price.
Vanity, you are a cruel and sadistic bitch, what will none of us do to please you, be like you, and have people crave our attention like we crave yours. Nothing is ever enough for you, isn’t it?
I gambled away my soul in the name of vanity, I threw myself into societies clutches, I so badly wanted to be like one of them, the glitzy shiny people in the magazines, who could do no wrong and were the epitome of perfection. I wanted to be perfection; I wanted to be the object of everyone’s desire.
Well, I got what I wanted- I felt the soft touch of fame, the sweet caresses of vanity and pride- a kid locked in a candy store, I basked in the glory of my beauty and my allure, forgetting that my body was the child- but I was the parent who had to clear the bill off the next day.
And boy o’boy am I paying for it now, I am riddled with pain and invisible shackles, the body is wasting away while you prowl about for your next victim, setting the trap for the next gullible girl which stars in her eyes and a pocket full of nothing but dreams.
I puked my soul along with my guts to be as thin as the rest of them, I sold myself to sleazy old men for a chance to walk amongst the 1 percent, I was a talentless hack who wanted it all and you gave it to me good, vanity, real good.
What do I have now for selling my soul and body? The glorious title of a has-been, a nobody, an extra in life’s glorious sitcom.
I am the scary old lady with to much make up you keep on seeing around, I am the 50 year old man trying to be hip, I am what my greed made me.
I am vanity.
Do not mistake me for a heroin, coke or crack addict, I did not indulge in such feeble vices, my poison was something much more ancient, it was devastatingly glorious and now I’m paying the price.
Vanity, you are a cruel and sadistic bitch, what will none of us do to please you, be like you, and have people crave our attention like we crave yours. Nothing is ever enough for you, isn’t it?
I gambled away my soul in the name of vanity, I threw myself into societies clutches, I so badly wanted to be like one of them, the glitzy shiny people in the magazines, who could do no wrong and were the epitome of perfection. I wanted to be perfection; I wanted to be the object of everyone’s desire.
Well, I got what I wanted- I felt the soft touch of fame, the sweet caresses of vanity and pride- a kid locked in a candy store, I basked in the glory of my beauty and my allure, forgetting that my body was the child- but I was the parent who had to clear the bill off the next day.
And boy o’boy am I paying for it now, I am riddled with pain and invisible shackles, the body is wasting away while you prowl about for your next victim, setting the trap for the next gullible girl which stars in her eyes and a pocket full of nothing but dreams.
I puked my soul along with my guts to be as thin as the rest of them, I sold myself to sleazy old men for a chance to walk amongst the 1 percent, I was a talentless hack who wanted it all and you gave it to me good, vanity, real good.
What do I have now for selling my soul and body? The glorious title of a has-been, a nobody, an extra in life’s glorious sitcom.
I am the scary old lady with to much make up you keep on seeing around, I am the 50 year old man trying to be hip, I am what my greed made me.
I am vanity.