work in progress, as always

People cant judge you if you have nothing. To exist you have something, therefore people must judge you. Enter the whirlpool of society, bleed it, use it, be it, make it. it is what you want it to be. you are part of it; if you choose to be. why not? everyone wants to be fabulous, rich, skinny, beautiful, adored and admired. Fall into make believe, unreality, a false sense that feels unreal but has a life. Maybe its tainted but who fucking cares. Its fabulous. Sensational. A dream life. One would die for it. Steal it, pretend to have it. Live for eternity. Are you searching for it? You want it dont you? Well you cant have it. Its unreachable. People have it. Really, they do. Its not obtainable to you. You can never have it. Reach for the bloody stars, they are glittering all of them, each of them, sparkling in multitudes of colourations. Screaming for that something; that fear to end all fears, that reaching, grabbing humanity that we have all become, desperate to live a life thats printed in pictures, told in moving, magnified pictures. Maybe its so part of your self you dont know it. You could search, its entirely up to you, really. Seeping trashy injections & its cold wonders, soft amusement parks, and taught fleshy rose flushed pink glitter splinters.