To me!

Despite the hollowness, I am happy. Yes happy.
No really I don’t mind the emptiness.
The time of meeting my inner dialogue is over.
Really no mistakes now, I run my hands through my clean hair and I feel a rush of adrenalin. I don’t contemplate anymore.
I want it I have it.
I want it I get it.
Don’t blame me if I have a great job. How is it my fault I earn pots of pennies?
No really how is it my fault if I crave for a good life?
Didn’t you say work hard and have a good time?
Wait I need to light my smoke.
And please I don’t need sermons and guidance.
There is no one to reason out my freedom.
It’s my eyes.
They do all the work, they conduct the magic, and they execute all my sins.
And trust me I like them, it.
And I hate the letter Y.
At lest, I’m man enough to look my self in the mirror daily and say “I love you”
And please don’t bother judging me. It’s an effortless exercise, I am sure. But please don’t waste precious energy.
I’m sick of hearing “save for a rainy day”.
The rain gods can conserve their resources till I lie in my grave.
How is this cynical, how many men do you know would freely admit to all this.
How many men do you know?
I’m man enough to **** anorexic models without rubber. There I said it. I don’t give a **** if this sounds crass.
What was that?
“Look inside my self and see if this is me talking”
(Evil laugh)
Yes Sherlock it is I.
It is I who has sold my soul to the devil.
It is I who trip on expensive LSD.
It is I who buys Dolce and Gabanna and don’t think twice of starving children in Somalia. Should I kill my self? I think not.
You want to know me ah?
So here know me.
Do you know what I see when I squeeze my eyes shut?
I see glamour.
I see money.
I see promiscuosity.
I see light.
I see mirrors.
And I see hell.
Oh please I can’t cry anymore. Crying is a sign of loneliness and fear.
I’m alone and I’m scared.
I am.
Loneliness
Alone
Solitude
Alone
Fear
Paranoia
Stress
Alone
Panic
Pressure
High
Drop the pressure.
I can’t, because I don’t know how.