What does he know and what is going to happen? Can I ever get free from the house arrest into which I’ve been finagled by my ultra wealthy enemies? Will the captive ones continue to collaborate with the mass act of isolating me - which I endure because of the control games played against me by my ultra wealthy enemies?
Everyone is in a tight spot. The collaborators look like hypocrites. Audiences feel betrayed and I’m being told en masse by known liars that a magical injection - like the one that clearly and very obviously killed my mother - are my passport back into participation in this world.
Who would support “medicine” as a price for participating in formerly regular activities? Who would support “medicine” that in no way considers the well-being or the health of the person taking it? (“Medicine” for the supposed well-being of others. There is no case supporting that this “medicine” even does indeed help others.)
Since when is it legal for non credible public figures to emotionally blackmail us into taking “medicine” which officially kills sometimes? And if we don’t like it, we get threats and we are called names and bullied by the thousands of publicists who have been paid to shove this trip down our throats.
The game is rigged and the ones rigging it are hiding behind their puppets and publicists as per usual - but they are still quite easy to identify. I would not want to come off as too much of a collaborator right now. Change is in the air.
“The Final Mrs. Curtain" Lyrics
He was a plain piece of paper, an ordinary smith
The kind that you never trifle with
Drawn in wide-eyeliner, a solitary lass
Her beauty veiled by tortoiseshell and tinted glass
She was a husband collector of impeccable taste
She said, "My hands are tied but my glass is chaste"
He said, "If I were him, I'd fill that to the brim, so tell me more,
'Cause that's the kind of talk that I adore"
To lay with you
To lie with you
To live with you
Maybe die with you
As first love fades
Then two, then three
I'm certain to see
The Final Mrs. Curtain
There's not enough paper, there's not enough ink
There's not enough hours in the day, or poisons to drink
But there are too many teardrops that are still left to cry
And different kinds of kisses to help them dry
To lay with you
To lie with you
To live with you
Maybe die with you
As first love fades
Then two, then three
I'm certain to see
The Final Mrs. Curtain
To lay with you
To lie with you
To live with you
Maybe die with you
I'm the one who'll hold you
Till we're through
The Final Mrs. Curtain