Working on the fucktion of my life
The wills of others fuck with me and the will of my mother keeps me in position
The grey hair mane disturbs my peace but has nothing but good will to offer;
Or is that a lie?
The falsehood that exists in my core sector worries me.
Am I a believer in conspiracy or am I just the conductor of a play I "act" like I do not want. The players I have chosen. The acts I play within.
Others reactions to my world appease my soul but devastate my home. Where do I go when, no where is just out of reach?
Respect me or respect you. Which comes first and how do I know which is which.
Do they coexist I don't believe they do. At least not here in this land.
Pretty but ugly; Skinny but fat; Nice but evil: It's all a life of duplicity and confusion. Depression lurks from the brain or does it seep in through your open heart to others. Where am I? Who the fuck am I? And when is that not the question?
If the question is truly answered -- are you dead?