I ought to be tired But I'm angry. I ought to be dreaming But I'm suddenly terrified by my own dreams and I've never been so close to a fatal ending. I can't stop thinking stop eating. I'm a puzzle piece from another story And no matter which way I bend Or how hard how I squeeze, I can't ever seem to fit the scene. Ironic, since I used to be maleable. Since I used to play the role of many. But now I don't fit. No one wants me. No one wants an actress who loses the ability to fool an audience. And the audience has changed so much. I used to look out and see friendly faces, Supportive, understanding, motivating. I don't recognize the faces now. They change so much and always when I need their hands the most, They're silent. A cricket chirps and I walk off stage. You couldn't even offer me your chair. Jackass. So I stood, Growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Where am I going? What am I doing? Does it mean anything, any of it? Why am I the one-kiss-wonder? Well fuck you. Fuck all of you, and I don't apologize for meaning it, Aside from a rare, select few. It's the moments of absenteeism when the true friends step forward. I'm shitty, thanks for asking. And why did I do it? Why did I let it happen, and then let it slip away? Why do I not possess whatever it is They do? Why am I so different?-- Those are Your words, not mine. I've never been so close to a tragic ending. And no, dipshit, this isn't about a boy. When did it all become gray? When did the glimmer and shine and glory fade away? No- It didn't fade. A fade is a nice thing that happens slowly over time. This vanished. One minute I saw everything as I had always dreamed, glorious and amazing. The next, I was introduced to its perversions and flaws, cracks and nasty habits and all of a sudden I didn't want to be a part of it any more. I guess that's the way it goes. But I've never been so close to a tragic ending. The irony is that it all looked so good. Like always, I was mislead. Like always, I was lied to, in one form another. Like ALWAYS, I was let down and abandoned. Like always. Fuck groups. To hell with dreams. No--I take that back. I want my dreams and hopes back. I want to be naive again and believe. I want to dream about Europe and book tours, About travel and marriage and children. I want all of that, except that I want it to have meaning again. It's nothing to me right now. nothing. Have you any idea what it's like to feel nothing? To hate everything and want nothing? To feel so sickeningly depressed, You haven't the care to cry? I do. I've been here before. Many times. For some reason, I don't think this will be my final visit. But I'm telling you, I've never been so close to a fatal ending.