I Never Sold Out. I Sold Myself In...

Everybody Up!

The Harlot's web has never been thicker. Unfortunately for him, the Beast doesn't even realise he's being played. Ah well, such is the course of things. We follow, mesmerised by falling stars...Yet we're surprised when the blinding flash of impact burns us. But I swear...upon a lexicon of scars...that I will never again be trapped in such a situation. Because sweetest revenge never comes true, but we all want to try new things. I found it funny when I found this photograph. Where is the spite? The narrowed eyes? In all honesty, it was a false image of beauty in black and white. Anywhere else, I wouldn't have recognised it for anything more than another one with concentrated brightness. The smile isn't like mine, though it has changed many times over the years. No quirky configurations or twitchy corners. Was this before she died...from making the best of it?

At this point, the strings melt together to create chords that ring like no other. Gentle vibrations are picked up and slung into the open air. The crisp coolness of it reverberates through the cavity, ripples begin to form with fluidity. History intact in form of Polaroids. Very few have notes scribbled down. At the time, it seemed pointless to explain the setting...the emotion supposedly conveyed was going to tell all that needed telling. Or so they thought. Pictures and memories are all that's left...and those are few and far between. Most often pushed into corners of the room and mind.

As if to supply the irony that the world feeds on, some proof of life...nothing survives. Anger like amber turned fossil...Golden and perfectly preserved, yet slipped away ontop of some shelf as if to be displayed for the passerby. It makes quite the conversation piece. Perhaps it's the way it tosses the light. Were we ever, truthfully alive? It felt like it, but perhaps it was nothing but elation for revived emotion. I'll never be able to tell you for sure.

It's so cold...inside the surgeon's house tonight. It's enjoyable, yet I can't help but wonder. Haven't we got someplace else to be? I take a look around and I realise that I'm essentially stuck where I am now. Never have I felt so well policed. Why should I be anything but pleased...Sit Down.

Call it love with a new face. I don't care what you do...You can name it Joey for all I care. Because we're all headed West, whatever we think we believe. And now the best I can be is the peace that I don't want to see. But it's not that I have much of a choice in the matter. Civility is a curse...I'm considering forgetting all about it. Call it the Election-Night Special.

Just remember. The hardest part about opening up to someone is putting so much power in their hands...Chances are they'll use it against you someday.

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.