The curtain had risen now the play must start
Put on the stupid mask and wear your fake heart
Say all the lines clear so they must not have to hear
That all your smiles are sobs and all your laughs are tear

Give them the show, the one they always want
Your pain is amusing, entertain them with stunts
If they want you to be stabbed and cut by a sword
Close your mouth, just follow, don't say a word

For no one cares if it will cut that **** deep
After all you're just an actor forced to play the script

Reality, in truth, is maybe just a dream
A hologram of thoughts, you can choose your own theme
The outside, a reflection, of all that you desire
Keep the mind positive or deficiency may transpire

See we are the actors, our thoughts dictate our roles
A human experience, navigated by our souls
The dream is not as rigid as we are led to believe
The mind can alter circumstance but the mind can still decieve

If everything is energy then keep your vibration high
Vibrate at such a level that the limit becomes the sky
Remember it's YOUR dream and only YOU can change the script
Whatever comes your way, you are more than equipped

Reality, in truth, is maybe just a dream
A hologram of thoughts, things aren't always what they seem

Got girls dragging me in every direction,
got me deciding who’s cool and who’s a distraction,
all these reactions to their reactions,
has me needing a recess to retreat from all this action,

but I guess that’s what I get,
for being one of the Main Attractions,
a magnetic poet with ******* stanzas,
dramatic romances and poetic patterns,

hey friend remember back when,
you’d act natural and things would just naturally happen,
instead of being in something that seems reused and rehearsed,
like all the world’s a stage and we’re all just actors acting,

hey friend remember back when,
we’d act casual and things would just casually happen,
as if these writings weren’t written in present past patterns,
as if I haven’t gotten bigger than any of those assorted Randoms,

with a bunch of instances of coincidences,
that are anything but random,
which has switched this kid’s position,
from being random to being one that’s obsessed on by randoms,

and it’s strange to say the least,
how this change has occurred in such a subtle fashion….

See she was my most casual stalker,
just wanting some time to share my space,
see she was me several years ago,
before all these changes in me finally took place,

she was a socially awkward Closet Genius,
the closest thing to me I’d seen since fame,
closed to most of the world which she felt was dangerous,
see she only opened up to me because here’s where she felt safe,

so I warned her of the Energy Vampires,
then wondered if she was one of those Vampire Dames,
you know the type that act all hyped,
then as soon as they leave you you feel drained,
at any rate I warned her to beware of those that stare,
and told her her soul is worth more than any amount of fame,
then excused myself from the entire situation,
because it was time for me to put on my cleats and return to The Game,

return back to writing these writings which wrote me to fame,
and I know it sounds complicated but really it is simple,
only requires a potent combination of mixing the answers,
with the questions in the middle of pros composed as riddles,

like,

how I’ve got girls dragging me in every direction,
got me deciding who’s cool and who’s a distraction,
all these reactions to their reactions,
has me needing a recess to retreat from all this action,

but I guess that’s what I get,
for being one of the Main Attractions,
a magnetic poet with ******* stanzas,
dramatic romances and poetic patterns,

hey friend remember back when,
you’d act natural and things would just naturally happen,
instead of being in something that seems reused and rehearsed,
like all the world’s a stage and we’re all just actors acting…

∆ LaLux ∆

New book available absolutely FREE, please give it a thumbs up here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005

Sometimes, the people who make
The best actors work at
High salary jobs, usually
Being a "too good to be true" success,
Forget about being who you are,
And you can make a whole lot,
But you lose a part of yourself
In the process...

Who cares! It was all worth it,
Hunny bunny!

I prefer my actors live on stage:
Living, breathing, running around.
But sometimes you need a stiff;
I like them to be, metaphorically speaking, upstanding
With a military bearing and patriotic moustache,
Ideally tricked, or seduced, by cunning foreigners.

Once they are dead, I want them face down,
Fully clothed, shot in the back,
Being studied by a stooping policeman,
Or better still, an upper class pre-war sleuth
With a cravat and a monocle;
No need for ceremony with them.

A doctor arrives.
‘What seems to be trouble?’ he asks.
‘He’s dead, you idiot!’ cries the sleuth;
‘Make yourself useful. Get Lady Bounder here a cup of tea.
She’s fainted. Two sugars.’

Enter Inspector Dummy.
‘It looks like ******,’ he announces.
‘Give the boy a medal,’ comes the witty reply.
‘Oh, sorry, your Lordship. Shall I shine your shoes?’

Then there’s a sub-plot, a side issue:
The bones of a victim
Of a botched bank robbery
Forty years before
And the stiff was his grandson.

It’s a hard job, being dead on stage,
Or so I’m told, I’ve never tried it.
I once saw a ****** victim sneeze, twice,
Under a table in the library.
He deserved that kick; nothing like a good laugh.

The glitter is blinding.
New stars start shining.
Then memories recalled
With
Allegation,
Interpretation,
Incrimination,
Disinformation,
Retaliation;
And,
Five million to start.
But
Not that alone.
You're getting your picture
On the cover of
*The Rolling Stone?

my friend's boyfriend broke up with her.
(on her birthday)
he told her, (while she was already hurt by
the lack of care he'd given her) "we are not together."

confused. she asked him why.
his usual answer was: "you decided this months ago."

her memory as it was told to me,
she decided to end the relationship
after months of stress and a dislike for
him and herself.

after a few days, he'd made a horrible
plea for her heart and as weak hearts,
most likely do. she gave it back to him.

nothing changed, *** was still regular.
( not better, not any worse)
love was there, but only on her side.

after days of trying to talk and not annoy him,
he revealed that he was not in love with her,
he only liked her and stayed for so long,
as not to hurt her.

this hurt more than her heart could stand,
she thought it was going to pump its last
few breaths from the shock, she felt.

then after comfort from her sister,
she felt relief and free.
In the back of her mind, she knew the truth of him.
He didn't kiss her anymore, didn't ask for hugs, didn't
take photos together or try to hold her hand.

she was in love with a figment of her imagination
and he was better in her mind.

when she told him, that she already knew for a long time of her one-sided love. he seemed shocked that she knew. she told me

(how could one pretend so horribly to love me and seem to think I not
notice?)

Confused that she seemed to brush him off,
he decided to blame her for their failed relationship
due to her lack of emotion and telling herself that (she'll be fine.)

He wanted to break her down, have her crawling back to him
like before when her heart was weak and he was weak and alone
without her.

She asked me, why do men do this?
( play with your heart, blame you for equal failures, then leave you to clean up the mess)

I told her, I did not know.
Maybe, just him, wants you to feel how he feels.
Or maybe he wants to laugh and mock you for being so naive again, so
gullible.

She told me that he'd asked to fix it.
( I want to try again, I want to fix it.)
But there was nothing to fix.
There had been nothing there for years,
no love, no compassion, just a distance.

When I saw her a few years later,
she was with him,
it seems she did not take my words to heart
or her heart was too weak to leave him.

I just hope he really loves her now and if he hasn't,
then he's become a really good actor.