Amy is everclear about amphetimines

She came out west to find the sun / She lost her name but found a new one / Amy goes to school all day / But at night in the neighborhood they call her Amphetamine / She is perfect in that fucked up way / That all the magazines seem to want to glorify these days / She looks like a teenage anthem / She looks like she used to be happy with the girl inside / She looks so bored sometimes / And she has that super pale skin and those soft green eyes / She looks like she could have been happy in a better life / She came out west just to break away clean / From her family and her friends and a little girl’s dream / All she wants to do every night / Is to sit beside my window and listen to the sirens / She is perfect in that fucked up way / That all the magazines seem to want to glorify these days / She came out west just to break the spell / After three long years in a marriage from hell / Six months clean living sober and right / Her doctors tell her everything will be alright / Yeah, you just take your pill / And everything will be alright / She looks like a teenage anthem / Like she used to be happy in another world / Met her at a party and I took her home / She is the saddest girl that I have ever known / She wakes up in the middle of the night / Just to tell me everything will be alright / Amy smiles at me and tells me everything will be alright / I tell myself the same damn thing / Everyday / Everything will be alright


1st January, 2019, 2:08pm. In kindergarten, I was a fucking ugly as sin weirdo. A bona fide Noni Nofriends. I was a loser geek, who didn’t know how to make friends or be around people. Legit. K (the abnormal mere boring mortal me. The real me) .. well I just didn’t know how to be around people… I was always too extra. Too intense.

But there was this girl in my kindy class. She was the prettiest girl in the whole fucking grade. Her name was Amy Power. And I wanted to be as pretty as her. And as popular. Or not even that… just… I didn’t want to be a piece of shit.

So I named my Barbie dolls Amy. And I would pretend that I was acting out scenes and stuff… that maybe I could one day amount to some thing that wasn’t teased or laughed at.

I had a photo of myself on my first day of kindy standing with my teacher, Ms. Wright. But… I need to actually remove all photos from real life… I must remove any version of actual reality from here… Because people say that the truth sets you free… But no one wants that freeing truth to be real… they only want to pretend and live vicariously through the shit they see safely from behind their computer screens.

Television, movie projectors, mobil3 devices, laptops, tablets, computer monitors…

You’re all protected and safe from shit Because you don’t have to live it.

Lucky you.

I thought I could spread the word of love over the internet because I needed an outlet for my brainwaves.. for them to be easily and more quickly transmitted to the public… b3cause I’m an amplifier, remember my mnemonic data bank of metaphors? Yeah…

On to the internet and transmit that shit out. Ideas of love and life and freedom and fighting and falling and wisdom and wanting….

But..?

Fuck me and my life.

I fucked everything up in my life.

And I realise… yeah, it totally is my fault. It is because of me. The me that existed before my consciousness could even comprehend that shit.

I have full agency and shit over what I do. All the words I have ever said, and the careless way I let that shit spread? I posted once a while ago that I was wearing modernmysticmother as a mecha suit and was going to stomp on shit as I kill ignorance.

Turns out I stomped on my family. I crushed my life and didn’t realise I was trying to resurrect a dead fish or shark by bringing it out into the air.

Sharks need water. They live beneath the surface.

I am a fucking idiot who doesn’t get it.

I still don’t get it. Because I’m still here. And I’m still doing this. I hate everything about me.

I’ve destroyed the only thing I cared about because of my selfish need to spit shit onto the internet.

I wanted to try to make something. But I’m garbage without my better half helping me.

My husband is the real powerhouse behind my success.

And I’ve broken us.

He is the Joker to my Harley Quinn. I just wanted to be like him… I wanted to impress him… But I’m the worst… I don’t know shit…

I was wanton and trashy and let my ego, pride and vanity get in the way.

I love him. But his desire for anonymity and privacy prevents me from talking about or to him on here directly….

And I’m fucking crazy. I should be locked up. Turn back into Rapunzel in her tower.