I.

One night at the Troubadour I spotted this extraordinary girl.

So I asked who she was.

‘A professional,’

That was my introduction that on a scale of one to ten

there were women who were fifteens—beautiful, bright, witty, and

oh, by the way, they worked.

Once I became aware,

I saw these women everywhere.

And I came to learn that most of them were connected to Alex



II.

She had a printer engrave a calling card

that featured a bird of paradise

borrowed from a Tiffany silver pattern

and,
under it,

Alex’s Aviary,

Beautiful and Exotic birds.



A few were women you’d see lunching at Le Dôme:

pampered arm pieces with expensive tastes

and a hint of a delicious but remote sexuality.

Many more were fresh-faced, athletic, tanned, freckled

the quintessential California girl

That you’d take for sorority queens or future BMW owners.





III.

The mechanism of Alex’s sudden notoriety is byzantine,

as these things always are.

One of her girls took up with a rotter,

the couple had a fight,

he went to the police,

the police had an undercover detective visit

(who just happened to be an attractive woman)

and ask to work for her,

she all but embraced her

—and by April of 1988 the district attorney had enough evidence

to charge her with two counts of pandering

and one of pimping.

For Alex, who is fifty-six

and has a heart condition and diabetes,

the stakes may be high.

A conviction carries the guarantee of incarceration.

For the forces of law and order,

the stakes may be higher.

Alex has let it be known that she will subpoena

every cop she’s ever met to testify at her trial.

And the revelations this might produce

—perhaps that Alex compromised policemen

by making girls available to them,

—perhaps that Alex had a deal with the police to provide information

in exchange for their blind eye to her activities

—could be hugely embarrassing to the police and the district attorney.

For Alex’s socially correct clients and friends,

for the socially correct wives of her clients and friends

and for a handful of movie and television executives

who have no idea they are dating or

married to former Alex girls,

the stakes are highest of all.



IV.

Alex’s black book is said to be a catalogue of
Le Tout Los Angeles.

In her head are the ****** secrets

of many of the city’s most important men,

to say nothing of visiting businessmen and Arab princes.

If she decides to warble,

either at her trial or in a book,

her song will shatter more than glass.





V.

A decade ago, I went to lunch at Ma Maison,

There were supposed to have been ten people there,

but only four came.

One of them was a short woman

who called me a few days later and invited me to lunch.

When I arrived, the table was set for two.

I didn’t know who Alex was or what she did,

but she knew the important facts of my situation:

I was getting divorced from a very wealthy man

and doing the legal work myself

to avail lawyers who wanted to get a big settlement for me.


Occasionally, she said, I get a call for a tall, dark-haired,

slender, flat-chested woman

—and I don’t have any.

It wouldn’t be a frequent thing.

There’d be weekends away, sometimes in Palm Springs,

sometimes in Europe.

The men will be elegant,

you’ll have your own room

—there would be no outward signs of impropriety.

And you’d get $10,000 to $20,000 for a weekend.





VI.

The tall, slender, flat-chested brunette

didn’t think it was right for her.

Alex handed her a business card

and suggested that she think about it.

To her surprise, she did

—for an entire week.

This was 1978, and $20,000 then

was like $40,000 now,

I knew it was hooking,

but Alex had never mentioned ***.



Our whole conversation seemed to be about something else.



VII.

I was born in Manila

to a Spanish-Filipina mother and German father,

and when I was twelve

a Japanese soldier came into our house

with his bayonet pointed at us,

ready to do us in.

He locked us in and set the house on fire.

I haven’t been scared by much since that.



My mother always struck me as goofy,

so I jumped on a bus and ran away,

I got off in Oakland,

saw a help-wanted sign on a parish house,

and went in.

I got $200 a month for taking care of four priests.

I spent all the money on pastries for the parish house.

But I didn’t care.

It felt safe.

And the priests sparked my interest in the domestic arts

—in linen, in crystal.



A new priest arrived.

He was unpleasant,

so on a vacation in Los Angeles I took a pedestrian job,

still a teenager,

married a scientist.

We separated eight years later,

he took our two sons to another state

threatened to keep them if I didn’t agree to a divorce.

Keep them I said and hung up.

It’s not that I don’t have a maternal instinct

—though I don’t,

I just hate to be manipulated.



My second husband,

an alcoholic,

had Frank Sinatra blue eyes, and possibly

—I never knew for sure—

had a big career in the underworld

as a contract killer.

Years before we got serious,

he was going out with a famous L.A. ******,

She and her friends were so elegant

that I started spending time with them in beauty salons.

They were so fancy,

so smart

—and they knew incredible people,

like the millionaire who sat in his suite all day

just writing $5,000 checks to girls.



VIII.

I was a florist.

We got to talking.

She was a madam from England

who wanted to sell her book and go home.

I bought it for $5,000.

My husband thought it was cute.

Now you’re getting your feet wet.

Three months later,

he died.

After eleven years of marriage,

just like that.

And of the names in the book

it turned out

that half of the men were also dead.

When I began the men were old and the women were ugly.



IX.

It was like a lunch party you or I would give,

Great food Alex had cooked herself.

Major giggles with old pals.

And then,

instead of chocolate After Eight,

she served three women After Three



This man has seen a bit of life

beyond Los Angeles,

so I asked him how Alex’s stable

compared with that of Madam Claude,

the legendary Parisian procuress.

Oh, these aren’t at all like Claude’s girls,

A Claude girl was perfectly dressed and multilingual

—you could take her to the opera

and she’d understand it.





He told me that when she was 40

she looked at herself in the mirror

and said

Disgusting.

People over 40

should not have ***.

But She Was Clear That She Never Liked It

even when she was young.

Besides, she saw all the street business

go to the tall,

beautiful girls.

She thought that she never had a chance

competing against them.

Instead,

she would take their money by managing them.





X.

Going to a ****** was not looked down upon then.

It was before the pill;

Girls weren’t giving it away.

Claude specialized in

failed models and actresses,

ones who just missed the cut.

But just because they failed

in those impossible professions

didn’t mean they weren’t beautiful,

fabulous.



Like Avis

in those days,

those girls tried harder.

Her place was off the Champs,

just above a branch of the Rothschild bank, where I had an account.

Once I met her,

I was constantly making withdrawals and heading upstairs.





XI.

We took the lift

and Claude greeted us at the door.

My impression was that of the director

of an haute couture house,

very subdued,

beige and gray, very little makeup.

She took us into a lounge and made us drinks,

Whiskey,

Cognac.

There was no maid.

We made small talk for 15 minutes.

How was the weekend?

What’s the weather like in Deauville?

Then she made the segue. ‘I understand you’d like to see some jeunes filles?’

She always used ‘jeunes filles.’

This was Claude’s polite way of saying 18 to 25.

She left and soon returned

with two very tall

jeunes filles,

One was blonde.

This is Eva from Austria.

She’s here studying painting.

And a brunette,

very different,

but also very fine.

This is Claudia from Germany.

She’s a dancer.

She took the girls back into the apartment and returned by herself.

I gave my English guest first choice.

He picked the blonde.

And wasn’t disappointed.

Each bedroom had its own bidet.

There was some nice

polite conversation, and then



It was slightly formal,

but it was high-quality.

He paid Claude

200 francs,

not to the girls

In 1965, 200 francs was about $40.

Pretty girls on Rue Saint-Denis

could be had for 40 francs

so you can see the premium.

Still, it wasn’t out of reach for mere mortals.

You didn’t have to be J. Paul Getty.





XII.

A lot of them

were models at

Christian Dior

or other couture houses.

She liked Scandinavians.

That was the look then

—cold, tall, perfect.

It was cheap for the quality.

They all used her.

The best people wanted

the best women.

Elementary supply and demand.



XIII.

She had a camp number tattooed on her wrist. I saw it.

She showed it to me and Rubi.

She was proud she had survived.

We talked about the camp for hours.

It was even more fascinating than the girls.



She was Jewish

I’m certain of that.

She was horrified at the Jewish collaborators

at the camp who herded

their fellow Jews

into the gas chambers.

That was the greatest betrayal in her life.



XIV.

She was this sad,

lonely little woman.

Later, Patrick told me who she was.

I was bowled over.

It was like meeting Al Capone.

I met two of the girls

who worked for her.

One was what you would expect

Tall

Blonde

Model.

But the other looked like a Rat

Then one night

she came out

all dressed up,

I didn’t even recognize her.

She was even better than the first girl.

Claude liked to transform women like that.

That was her art.

It was very odd,

my cousin told me.

There was not much furniture

and an awful lot of telephones.

“Allô oui,”



XV.

I had so many lunches

with Claude at Ma Maison

She was vicious.

One day,

Margaux Hemingway,

at the height of her beauty, walked by.

Une bonne

—the French for maid

was how Claude cut her dead.

She reduced

the entire world

to rich men wanting *** and

poor women wanting money.

She’d love to page through Vogue and see someone

and say,

When I met her

she was called

Marlene

and she had a hideous nose

and now she’s a princess.

Or she’d see someone and say

Let’s see if she kisses me or not.

It was like

I made her,

and I can destroy her.

She was obsessed

with “fixing” people

—with Saint Laurent clothes,

with Cartier watches,

with Winston jewels,

with Vuitton luggage,

with plastic surgeons.



XVI.

Her prison number was

888

which was good luck in China

but not in California.

‘Ocho ocho ocho,’ she liked to repeat

Even in jail, she was always working,

always recruiting stunning women.

She had a beautiful Mexican cellmate

and gave her Robert Evans’s number

as the first person she should call

when she was released.



XVII.

Never have *** on the first date.



XVIII.

There will always be prostitution,

The prostitution of misery.

And the prostitution of bourgeois luxury.

They will both go on forever.



“Allô oui,”



It was so exciting to hear a millionaire

or a head of state ask,

in a little boy’s voice,

for the one thing

that only you could provide

It's not how beautiful you are, it's how you relate

--it's mostly dialogue.



She was tiny, blond, perfectly coiffed and Chanel-clad.

The French Woman: The Arab Prince, the Japanese Diplomat, the Greek Tycoon, the C.I.A. Bureau Chief — She Possessed Them All!



XIX.

She was like a slave driver in the American South

Once she took a *******,

the makeover put the girl in debt,

because Claude paid all the bills to

Dior,

Vuitton,

to the hairdressers,

to the doctors,

and the girls had to work to pay them off.

It was ****** indentured servitude.



My Swans.



It reached the point

where if you walked into a room

in London

or Rome

as much as Paris

because the girls were transportable,

and saw a girl who was

better-dressed,

better-looking,

and more distinguished than the others

you presumed

it was a girl from Claude.

It was, without doubt,

the finest *** operation ever run in the history of mankind.



**.

The girl had to be

exactly what was needed

so I had to teach her everything she didn’t know.

I played a little the role of Pygmalion.

There were basic things that absolutely had to be done.

It consisted

at the start

of the physical aspect

“surgical intervention”

to give this way of being

that was different from other girls.

Often they had to be transformed

into dream creatures

because at the start

they were not at all



Often I had to teach them how to dress.

Often they needed help

to repair

what nature had given them

which was not so beautiful.

At first they had to be tall,

with pretty gestures,

good manners.

I had lots of noses done,

chins,

teeth,

*******.

There was a lot to do.



Eight times out of ten

I had to teach them how to behave in society.

There were official dinners, suppers, weekends,

and they needed to have conversation.

I insisted they learn to speak English,

read

certain books.

I interrogated them on what they read.

It wasn’t easy.

Each time something wasn’t working,

I was obliged to say so.



You were very demanding?

I was ferocious.



It’s difficult

to teach a girl how to walk into Maxim’s

without looking

ill at ease

when they’ve never been there,

to go into an airport,

to go to the Ritz,

or the Crillon

or the Dorchester.

To find yourself

in front of a king,

three princes,

four ministers,

and five ambassadors at an official dinner.

There were the wives of those people!

Day after day

one had to explain,

explain again,

start again.

It took about two years.

There would always be a man

who would then say of her,

‘But she’s absolutely exceptional. What is that girl doing here?’ ”





XXI.

A New York publisher who visited

the Palace Hotel

in Saint Moritz

in the early seventies told me,

I met a whole bunch of them there.

They were lovely.

The johns wanted everyone to know who they were.

I remember it being said

Giovanni’s Madame Claude girl is going to be there.

You asked them where they came from and they all said

Neuilly.

Claude liked girls from good families.

More to the point she had invented their backgrounds.



I have known,

because of what I did,

some exceptional and fascinating men.

I’ve known some exceptional women too,

but that was less interesting

because I made them myself.



Ah, this question of the handbag.

You would be amazed by how much dust accumulates.

Or how often women’s shoe heels are scuffed.





XXII.

She would examine their teeth and finally she would make them undress.



That was a difficult moment

When they arrived they were very shy,

a bit frightened.

At the beginning when I take a look,

it’s a question of seeing if the silhouette

and the gestures are pretty.

Then there was a disagreeable moment.

I said,

I’m sorry about this unpleasantness,

but I have to ask you to get undressed,

because I can’t talk about you unless I see you.

Believe me, I was embarrassed,

just as they were,

but it had to be done,

not out of voyeurism, not at all

—I don’t like les dames horizontales.



It was very funny

because there were always two reactions.

A young girl,

very sure of herself,

very beautiful,

très bien,

would say

Yes,

Get up, and get undressed.

There was nothing to hide, everything was perfect.



There were those who

would start timidly

to take off their dress

and I would say

I knew already.

The rest is not sadism, but nearly.

I knew what I was going to find.

I would say,

Maybe you should take off your bra,

and I knew it wasn’t going to be

beautiful.

Because otherwise she would have taken it off easily.

No problem.

There were damages that could be mended.

There were some ******* that could be redone,

some not

Sometimes it can be deceptive,

you know,

you see a pretty girl,

a pretty face,

all elegant and slim,

well dressed,

and when you see her naked

it is a catastrophe.



I could judge their physical qualities,

I could judge if she was pretty, intelligent, and cultivated,

but I didn’t know how she was in bed.

So I had some boys,

good friends,

who told me exactly.

I would ring them up and say,

There’s a new one.

And afterwards they’d ring back and say,

Not bad,

Could be better, or

Nulle.



Or,

on the contrary,

She’s perfect.

And I would sometimes have to tell the girls

what they didn’t know.

A pleasant assignment?

No.

They paid.



XXIII.

Often at the beginning

they had an ami de coeur

in other words,

oh,

a journalist, a photographer, a type like that,

someone in the cinema,

an actor, not very well known.

As time went by

It became difficult

because they didn’t have a lot of time for him.

The fact of physically changing,

becoming prettier,

changing mentally to live with millionaires,

produced a certain imbalance

between them

and the little boyfriend

who had not evolved

and had stayed in his milieu.

At the end of a certain time

she would say,

I’m so much better than him. Why am I with this boy?

And they would break up by themselves.



Remember,

this was instant elevation.

For most of them it was a dream existence,

provided they liked the ***,

and those that didn’t never lasted long.

A lot of the clients were young,

and didn’t treat them like tarts but like someone from their own class.

They would buy you presents,

take you on trips.



XXIV.

For me, *** was something very accessoire

I think after a certain age

there are certain spectacles one should not give to others

Now I have a penchant for solitude.

Love, it’s a complete destroyer,

It’s impossible,

a horror,

l’angoisse.

It’s the only time in my life I was jealous.

I’m not a jealous person, but I was épouvantable.

He was jealous too.

We broke plates over each other’s heads;

we became jealous about each other’s pasts.

I said one day

It’s finished.

Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and say:

Break my legs,

give me scarlet fever,

an attack of TB, but never that.

Not that.



XXV.

I called her into my office

Let us not exaggerate,

I sent her away.

She came back looking for employment,

but was fired again, this time for drugs.

She made menacing phone calls.

Then she arrived at the Rue de Boulainvilliers with a gun.

She shot three bullets

I was dressed in the fashion of Courrèges at this moment

He did very padded things.

I had a padded dress with a little jacket on top.

The bullet

—merci, Monsieur Courrèges

—stuck in the padding.

I was thrown forward onto the telephone.

I had one thought which went through my head:

I will die like Kennedy.

I turned round and put my hand up in a reflex.

The second bullet went through my hand.

I have two dead fingers.

It’s most useful for removing bottle tops.

In the corridor I was saved from the third bullet

because she was very tall

and I am quite petite, so it passed over my head.



XXVI.

There were men

who could decapitate,

****, and bomb their rivals

who would be frightened of me.

I would ask them how was the girl,

and they’d say

Not bad

and then

But I’m not complaining.

I was a little sadistic to them sometimes.

Some women have known powerful men because they’re their lover.

But I’ve known them all.

I had them all

here.



She will take many state secrets with her.



XXVI.

I don’t like ugly people

probably because when I was young

I wasn’t beautiful at all.

I was ugly and I suffered for it,

although not to the point of obsession.

Now that I’m an old woman,

I’m not so bad.

And that’s why

I’ve always been surrounded by people

Who

were

beautiful.

And the best way to have beautiful people around me

was to make them.

I made them very pretty.





XXVII.

I wouldn’t call what Alex gives you

‘advice,’

She spares you Nothing.

She makes a list of what she wants done,

and she really gets into it

I mean, she wants you to get your arms waxed.

She gives you names of people who do good facials.

She tells you what to buy at Neiman Marcus.

She’s put off by anything flashy,

and if you don’t dress conservatively, she’s got no problem telling you,

in front of an audience,

You look like a cheap *****!

I used to wear what I wanted when I went out

then change in the car into a frumpy sweater

when I went to give her the money she’d always go,

Oh, you look beautiful!



Marry your boyfriend,

It’s better than going to prison.

When you go out with her,

she’ll buy you a present; she’s incredibly generous that way.

And she’ll always tell you to save money and get out.

It’s frustrating to her when girls call at the end of the month

and say they need rent money.

She wants to see you do well.





We had a schedule, with cards that indicated a client’s name,

what he liked,

the names of the girls he’d seen,

and how long he’d been with them.

And I only hired girls who had another career

—if my clients had a choice between drop-dead-gorgeous

and beautiful-and-interesting,

they’d tend to take beautiful-and-interesting.

These men wanted to talk.

If they spent two hours with a girl,

they usually spent only five or ten minutes in bed.



I get the feeling that in Los Angeles, men are more concerned with looks.



XXVIII.

That was my big idea

Not to expand the book by aggressive marketing

but to make sure that nobody

mistook my girls for run-of-the-mill hookers.

And I kept my roster fresh.

This was not a business where you peddle your ***,

get exploited,

and then are cast off.

I screen clients. I’ve never sent girls to weirdos.

I let the men know:

no violence,

no costumes,

no fudge-packing.

And I talked to my girls. I’d tell them:

Two and a half years and you’re burned out.

Save your money.

This is like a hangar

—you come in, refuel, and take off.

It’s not a vacation, it’s not a goof.

This buys the singing lessons,

the dancing lessons,

the glossies.

This is to help you pay for what your parents couldn’t provide.

It’s an honorable way station—a lot of stars did this.



XXIX.

To say someone was a Claude girl is an honour, not a slur.



Une femme terrible.

She despised men and women alike.

Men were wallets. Women were holes.



By the 80s,

if you were a brunette,

the sky was the limit.

The Saudis

They’d call for half a dozen of Alex’s finest,

ignore them all evening while they

chatted,

ate,

and played cards,

and then, around midnight,

take the women inside for a fast few minutes of ***.



They’d order women up like pizza.



Since my second husband died,

I only met one man who was right for me,

He was a sheikh.

I visited him in Europe

twenty-eight times

in the five years I knew him

and I never slept with him.

He’d say

I think you fly all the way here just to tease me,

but he introduced me

by phone

to all his powerful friends.

When I was in Los Angeles, he called me twice a day.

That’s why I never went out

he would have been disappointed.



***.

Listen to me

This is a woman’s business.

When a woman does it, it’s fun

there’s a giggle in it

when a man’s involved,

he’s ******,

he’s a ****.

He may know how to keep girls in line,

and he may make money,

but he doesn’t know what I do.

I tell guys: You’re getting a nice girl.

She’s young,

She’s pleasant,

She can do things

she can certainly make love.

She’s not a rocket scientist, but she’s everything else.



The world’s richest and most powerful men, the announcer teased.

An income “in the millions,” said the arresting officer.

Pina Colapinto

A petite call girl,

who once slid between the sheets of royalty,

a green-eyed blonde helped the police get the indictment.

They really dolled her up

She looks great.

Never!

What I told her was: ‘Wash that ******.’





XXXI.

Madam Alex died at 7 p.m.

Saturday at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center,

where she had been in intensive care after recent open heart surgery

We all held her hand when they took her off the life support

This was the passing of a legend.

Because she was the mother superior of prostitution.

She was one of the richest women on earth.

The world came to her.

She never had to leave the house.

She was like Hugh Hefner in that way.


It's like losing a friend

In all the years we played cat and mouse,

she never once tried to corrupt me.

We had a lot of fun.


To those who knew her

she was as constant

as she was colorful

always ready with a good tidbit of gossip

and a gourmet lunch for two.

She entertained, even after her conviction on pandering charges,

from the comfy depths of her blue four-poster bed at her home near Doheny Drive,

surrounded by knickknacks and meowing cats,

which she fed fresh shrimp from blue china plates.



XXXII.

She stole my business,

my books,

my girls,

my guys.

I had a good run.

My creatures.

Make Mommy happy

Oh! He is the most enchanting cat that I have ever known.



She was, how can I say it,

classy.

When she first hired me

she thought I was too young to take her case.

I was 43.

I'm going to give you some gray hairs by the time this is over.

She was right.





XXXIII.

I was fond of Heidi

But she has a streak that is so vindictive.



If there is pure evil, it is Madame Alex.





XXXIV.

I was born and raised in L.A.

My dad was a famous pediatrician.

When he died, they donated a bench to him at the Griffith Park Observatory.



I think that Heidi wanted to try her wings

pretty early,

and I think that she met some people

who sort of took all her potential

and gave it a sharp turn



She knew nothing.

She was like a little parrot who repeated what she was supposed to say.



Alex and I had a very intense relationship;

I was kind of like the daughter she loved and hated,

so she was abusive and loving at the same time.



Look, I know Madam Alex was great at what she did

but it's like this:

What took her years to build,

I built in one.

The high end is the high end,

and no one has a higher end than me.

In this business, no one steals clients.

There's just better service.



XXXV.

You were not allowed to have long hair

You were not allowed to be too pretty

You were not allowed to wear too much makeup or be too glamorous

Because someone would fall in love with you and take you away.

And then she loses the business



XXXVI.

I was pursued because

come on

in our lifetime,

we will never see another girl of my age

who lived the way I did,

who did what I did so quickly,

I made so many enemies.

Some people had been in this line of business

for their whole lives, 30 or 40 years,

and I came in and cornered the market.

Men don't like that.

Women don't like that.

No one liked it.



I had this spiritual awakening watching an Oprah Winfrey video.

I was doing this 500-hour drug class

and one day the teacher showed us this video,

called something like Make It Happen.

Usually in class I would bring a notebook

and write a letter to my brother or my journal,

but all of a sudden this grabbed my attention

and I understood everything she said.

It hit me and it changed me a lot.

It made me feel,

Accept yourself for who you are.

I saw a deeper meaning in it

but who knows, I might have just been getting my period that day!



XXXVII.

Hello, Gina!

You movie star!

Yes you are!

Gina G!

Hello my friend,

Hello my friend,

Hello my movie star,

Ruby! Ruby Boobie!

Braaawk!

Except so many women say,

Come on, Heidi

you gotta do the brothel for us; don't let us down.

It would be kind of fun opening up an exclusive resort,

and I'll make it really nice,

like the Beverly Hills Hotel

It'll feel private; you'll have your own bungalow.

The only problem out here is the climate—it's so brutal.

Charles Manson was captured a half hour from Pahrump.



I said, Joe! What are you doing?

You gotta get, like,

a garter belt and encase it in something

and write,

This belonged to Suzette Whatever,

who entertained the Flying Tigers during World War II.

Get, like, some weird tools and write,

These were the first abortion tools in the brothel,

you know what I mean?

Just make some **** up!

So I came out here to do some research

And then I realized,

What am I doing?

I'm Heidi Fleiss. I don't need anyone.

I can do this.

When I was doing my research, in three months

I saw land go from 30 thousand an acre

to 50 thousand an acre,

and then it was going for 70K!

It's urban sprawl

—we're only one hour from Las Vegas.

Out here the casinos are only going to get bigger,

prostitution is legal, it's only getting better.





XXXVIII.

The truth is

deep down inside,

I just can't do business with him

He's the type of guy who buys Cup o' Noodles soup for three cents

and makes his hookers buy it back from him for $5.

It's not my style at all.

Who wants to be 75 and facing federal charges?

It was different at my age when I

at least...come on, I lived really well.

I was 22,

25 at the time?

It was fun then, but now I wouldn't want

to deal with all that *******

—the girls and blah blah blah.

But the money was really good.



I would've told someone they were out of their ******* mind

if they'd said in five years I'd be living with all these animals like this.

It's hard-core; how I live;

It's totally a nonfunctional atmosphere for me

It's hard to get anything done because

It’s so time-consuming.

I feel like they're good luck though....

I do feel that if I ever get rid of them,

I will be jinxed and cursed the rest of my life

and nothing I do will ever work again.



Guys kind of are a hindrance to me

Certainly I have no problem getting laid or anything.

But a man is not a priority in my life.

I mean, it's crazy, but I really have fun with my parrots.



XXXIX.

I started a babysitting circle when I wasn't much older than 9

And soon all the parents in the neighborhood

wanted me to watch over their children.

Even then I had an innate business sense.

I started farming out my friends

to meet the demand.

My mother showered me with love and my father,

a pediatrician,

would ask me at the dinner table,

What did you learn today?

I ran my neighborhood.

I just pick up a hustle really easily,

I was a waitress and I met an older guy who looked like Santa Claus.



Alex was a 5' 3" bald-headed Filipina

in a transparent muu muu.

We hit it off.

I didn't know at the time that I was there to pay off the guy's gambling debt.

It's in and out,

over and out.

Do you think some big-time producer

or actor is going to go to the clubs and hustle?



Columbia Pictures executive says:

I haven’t done anything that should cause any concern.

Jeez, it's like the Nixon enemies list.

I hope I'm on it.

If I'm not, it means I must not be big enough

for people to gossip about me.



That's right ladies and gentlemen.

I am an alleged madam and that is a $25 *****!

If you live out here,

you've got to hate people.

You've got to be pretty antisocial

How you gonna come out here with only 86 people?

That's Fred.

He's digging to China.

You look good.

Yeah, you too.

It's coming along here.

Yeah, it is.

I wanted to buy that lot there, but I guess it's gone?

That's mine, man! That's all me.

Really?

I thought there was a lot between us.

No. We're neighbors.



He's a cute guy

He's entertaining.

See, I kind of did do something shady to him.

I thought my property went all the way back

and butted up against his.

But there was one lot between us right there.

He said he was buying it,

but I saw the 'For Sale' sign still up there,

So I went and called the broker and said,

I'm an all-cash buyer.

So I really bought it out from under him.

But he's got plenty of room, and I need the space for my parrots.

Pahrump will always be Pahrump, but Crystal is going to be nice

All you need are four or five fancy houses and it'll flush everyone out

and it'll be a nice area.

They're all kind of weird here, but these people will go.

Like this guy here,

someone needs to **** him.

I was just saying to my dad that these parrots are born to a really ******-up world

He goes, Heidi, no, no; the world is a beautiful garden.

It's just, people are destroying it.

I’m looking into green building options

I don't want anything polluting,

I want a huge auditorium,

but it'll be like a jungle where my birds can really fly!

Where they can really do what they're supposed to do.

There were over 300 birds in there!

That lady,

She ran the exotic-birds department for the Tropicana Hotel,

which is a huge job.

She called me once at 3:30 in the morning

Come over here and help me feed this baby!

Some baby parrot.

And I ran over there in my pajamas

—I knew there was something else wrong

and she was like

Get me my oxygen!

Get me this, get me that.

I called my dad; he was like,

I don't know, honey, you better call the paramedics.

They ended up getting a helicopter.

And they were taking her away

in the wind with her IV and blood and everything

and she goes, Heidi, you take care of my birds.

And she dies the next day.

She was just a super-duper person.



XL.

I relate to the lifestyle she had before,

Now, I'm just a citizen.

I'm clean,

I'm sober,

I'm married,

I work at Wal-Mart.

I'm proud to say I know her. I look into her eyes

and we relate.





I got out in 2000,

so I've been sending her money for seven years

She was…whatever.

Girlfriend?

Yeah, maybe.

But ***, I tried like two times,

and I'm just not gay.

She gets out in about eight or nine months

and I told her I would get her a house.

But nowhere near me.

I didn't touch her,

but I'd be, like...

a funny story:

I told her,

Don't you ever ******* think

about contacting me in the real world.

I'm not a lesbian.

Then about two years ago, I got an e-mail from her,

or she called me and said, 'Google my name.'

So I Googled her name,

and she has this huge company.

Huge!

She won, like, Woman of the Year awards.

So I called her and I go,

Not bad.

She goes, 'Well, I did all that because you called me a loser.'

I go, '****, I should've called you more names

you probably would've found the cure for cancer by now.



XLI.

No person shall be employed by the licensee

who has ever been convicted of

a felony involving moral turpitude

But I qualify,

I mean, big deal, so I'm a convicted felon.

Being in the *** industry, you can't be so squeaky-clean.

You've got to be hustling.

Nighttime is really enchanting here

It's like a whole 'nother world out here, it really is

I’m so far removed from my social life and old surroundings.

Who was it, Oscar Wilde, I think, who said

people can adjust to anything.

I was perfectly adjusted in the penitentiary,

and I was perfectly adjusted to living in a château in France.



We had done those drug addiction shows together

Dr. Drew.

Afterward we were friendly

and he'd call me every now and then.

He'd act like he had his stuff together.

But it was all a lie.

Everything is a lie.

I brought him to a Humane Society event at Paramount Studios last year.

He was just such a mess.

So out of it.

He stole money from my purse.

He's such a drug addict because he's so afraid of being fat.

He liked horse ****, though. He did like horse ****.

This one woman that would have *** with a horse on the internet,

He told me that’s his favorite actress.

Better than Meryl Streep.



XLII.

The cops could see

why these women were taking over trade.

Girls with these looks charged upwards of $500 an hour.

The Russians had undercut them with a bargain rate of $150 an hour.

One thing they are not is lazy.

In the USSR

they grew up with no religion, no morality.

Prostitution is not considered a bad thing.

In fact, it’s considered a great way to make money.

That’s why it’s exploding here.

What we saw was just a tip of the iceberg.

These girls didn’t come over here expecting to be nannies.

They knew exactly what they wanted and what they were getting into.

The madam who organized this raid

was making $4 million a year,

laundered through Russian-owned banks in New York City

These are brutal people.

They are all backstabbers.

They’re entrepreneurs.

They’re looking at $10,000 a month for turning tricks.

For them, that’s the American dream.



XLIII.

If you’re not into something,

don’t be into it

But,

if you want to take some whipped cream,

put it between your toes,

have your dog licking it up and,

at the same time,

have your girlfriend poke you in the eye,

then that’s fine.

That’s a little weird but we shouldn’t judge.



She was my best friend then

and I consider her one of my best friends now,

because when I was going through Riker’s

and everyone abandoned me,

including my boyfriend,

I was hysterical,

crying,

and she was the one that was there.

And, when somebody needed to step up to the plate,

that’s who did, and I have an immense amount of

loyalty, respect, and love for her.

And if she’s going to prison for eight years

—that’s what she’s sentenced for

—I’ll go there,

and I’ll go there every week,

for eight years.

That’s the type of person I am.

Go on girl, use all of that photoshop to cover up your blemishes, dark circles and what not.
We all know that you're ugly inside.

Yes, everything stabbed me in the heart,
gut
core
Everywhere.
It's so ****** painful
I'm not nattering away
No
I will not and
am not
a nuisance who talks tosh.
You killed me.
It killed me.
A bunch of scrawled numbers killed me.
Everything
every ****** thing
is killing me.
Did I not try?
Did I not place my full brain and heart into it?
And why am I getting ready to get my brain chopped off under the falling axe?
Why, oh why
the sullen faces
blood-sworn glares
the rising temperatures in my body
the cold tears
that pierce the very layer of my cheek
What did I do to deserve **** like this?
Came Monday.
Monday blues
with the very lovely scores indeed ?!!
that kicked me out of the list.
Came Tuesday.
Far worse sight.
More numbers.
Numbers determining my barren life
And so will tomorrow come
with much angst
And so do I now cry or die?

One day you meet the people you think you could trust
but everything that was turns to stardust,
everything you loved seems to go so fast,
Girl why didn't you realize they all wear masks,
And your "friends" don't realize how she impacts you.
You don't realize this are fake accusations,
Why the hell do you people give me these complications?
So congratulations!
you made my life a complication!

Play my card
Cut me up
Destroy me  
I'm already broken
Fill my void with lies
Smack me with insults please
Look me in the eye and tell me how much you hate me
Walking blind
Blood pours out
Losing life
I scream your name
All I hear is your laughs
I'm not angry
Deceit flowing from me
No refunds
So don't bring me a receipt of apologies
They mean nothing
Just take your blades and dice me
I'm just here to make you happy
And all you do is take your knife and stab me

In the day of Satan,
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight.
He was telling me many things
with beautiful words,
Advised me so wisely,
Telling me for not too kind to people.
He said, "Why should you love and care about people
that never appreciate your kindness? Don't you see that they only take a benefit from you?
They don't mind to hurt you whenever they have chance.  
You are wasting your time! You are wasting your life!"  

In the day of Satan
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight.
Crowning my head
with all the brilliant ideas
about what I should do and I should be as a human,
Filling my heart
with all world's temptations,
Shining my way
with his adorable light,
And showing the much happiness and glory I could get
if I let myself following his path.

In the day of Satan
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight.
He made me fell in love with all of his beautiful words
that I was so ready to take a step
to follow all the words and the path he said and offered.

But then my inner soul came
and whispered,
"Are you sure that you're ready for following his path?
What is your motive of doing goodness, anyway?
To get people's attention or appreciation?
Or just for goodness itself?
Is your kindness just like the woman's make up
that will vanish as soon as you wash your face?
Are you sure that you're ready
for making him a King in your life?"

In the day of Satan
A satan took me for a long walk
in the daylight to his kingdom
to marry me and crown me as his queen.
But then I realized that
I'm doing kindness actually for the kindness itself
I'm doing goodness surely for the goodness itself
I'm doing merit definitely for the merit itself
Not for people I've helped
Not for people I love
Not for heaven's sake
Not even for the universe

If people can't appreciate me,
that's their problem, not mine.
If people can't accept
my unconditional love for them
with the proper way,
that's their problem, not mine.
If people turn to be backstabbers
instead of showing their gratitude
for what I've done for them,
that's their problem, not mine.  

In my life,
there's always a day of satan.
It is the day when satan take me for a long walk
and telling me all of the world's temptations
with the words that much sweeter than sugar.

But this time I've decided
to not listen to his words.
This time I've decided
to not help him in building his throne
or making him my King.
And this time I've decided
to stop my steps with him
and go back to what I should be:
A person with the genuine love and kindness.

Today, in the day of satan
I let a satan down
and let him reveal his true face:
A furious red and ugly guy with horns on his head
and a burning trident in his hand,
as I've refused to be his queen
and ruined his plan to build the throne...

May 5, 2018
Kanya Puspokusumo

I miss the drunks. The y3lling.
The inhalation of beer and cigarettes
Chased down by ego and godlessness.

How many times
hqve I written to this song,
and never heard beauty once?

Like the sweet pinch of a grapefruit,
before the sunset of sweat,
the same sunset that hailed warfare for boys.

I loved you so much once,
I still do, but you are like mist,
and  I am blind.

I miss backstabbers, creeps, catfish,
vampires, crows,
an angel.

When I was young I would screech down the hill
in my toy truck,
plastic chassis a powerhouse,
canary and howling,
I'd crash into the same cherry tree a million times.

Call me Avalanche.

Call me Indisputable.

Call me the Powerhouse.

Call me,
I missed you.

It was written we were dumb ******* without an once of sense,
Ignorance.

It was written that once a zero, always a zero,
Non-believers.

It was written fairytales don't have happyendings,
Cinderella.

It was written you can't even trust your friends,
Backstabbers.

It was written red and blue makes green,
Unity.

It was written the dollar is the root of all evil,
Reccession.

It was written we fight another man's war,
Bring home our troops.

It was written there is no hope for the future,
2012.

In an unforgiving world
of naysayers
and backstabbers
and depraved liars
and false prayers
where
you have to look around you
before
you can dare to look ahead
in an unforgiving world
where the pitchforks are raised
at the slightest of mistakes
in this unforgiving world
I possess
a poison
far more potent
it's called love.
and darling,
you're not getting any.

You heard a rumor about something I supposely said.
It's true.
So quote me.
I spoke it.
And stick to it.

That I love you.
Truly adore you.
Live my life centered around you.

So quote me.

I'm not like the backstabbers of the world.
I speak what I mean.
But without offense.
So quote me.
Cause I spoke it.
And I mean it.

I remember when I was a child,
A child amidst an ocean of rage.
Chaos clouded each step I took,
My emotions drained out of my soul.
I refined my rage, the crimson hate,
I resented Avarice, I had it all.
Fear had abandoned me long ago,
My will was strong, it burned with a glow.
I had abandoned Hope, for its light did not shine for me,
My dark soul saw compassion as a facade,
and Love was always locked away.
The blades of Chaos carved my soul,
its black hands destroyed my heart.
My innocence was lost to all,
Darkness seeped out of me to all near me.
Traitors and backstabbers I met with each day,
I smiled gruesomely as my mind they sliced.
On surface, all hope I had lost,
But deep within, my heart cried out.
I saw anguish and terror dark,
the flames of hell bathed my life.
And finally a day did come,
When in torment, an oath I took.
I promised to play life's game,
I swore to dissolve myself.
I carved a mask of glittering facades,
to hide away my inner self.
For years I lived like this,
shunning emotions and companionship.
I smiled when I cried, drank all my tears,
And tried to do where others had failed.
I was there for all,
A placid smile on my face.
But the fates are cruel,
they had the power to rule and send me back to my hell.
The mask of my facades one day I left,
Unknow to me my heart cried out.
It imprinted itself on the first soul it found,
But ah cruel fates, you had your say!
They crackled in their seats,
For they had the play manned.
They gave me one to love indeed,
But sadly she could not love me back.
Suddenly, my calm broke,
Crimson rage rose up like the blood of a corpse,
I was angry at fate, angry at myself.
Avarice found my heart,
I wanted her happy, I wanted her smiles.
Fear of rejection kept me at bay,
My will to fight gave way.
Cowardly hope claimed my heart,
In the eyes of allies, compassion I found.
Love with a vengenance found my heart,
Suddenly my heart a doeful song did sing.
My eyes sank deep into dark lament,
Chaos saw the doors of my heart open and with me insecure,
overcame me with a chaotic embrace.
In midst of pain and angst,A soothing voice I heard,
The Reaper with his scythe upturned,
called out to me in melodious refrains,
"Sleep with me Adam's child."
He asked of me,
Lay down in the fields of dew.
Drink a brew of hemlock,
And dream in silence, eternal in the lands of death.
My heart, a wounded animal cried,
It thought good of Death's offer.
My mind however lost not its faith,
and cried out to 'Life' to convince me again.
"My dear child" said the white lady,
"Lose not hope in life's turmoil,
I agree you have been witness to pain,
but fear not I will give you your respite.
"Would you listen to this beautiful lie?"
cried Death with his stony voice,
"I never lie but you, child of Adam,
must eventually die."
Anguish filled my darkened soul,
My mind was in torment and made no sense.
I dreamed of Life and that of Death,
but chose to go back again.

Is this madness how can it be?
You all sold your souls and have forsaken me.
Poisen the well and ask me to drink.
call yourselves friends makes me really have to
step back and think.

Keep your heads above water cause shallow are your words.
My tongue is a razor.
Chop you up and flush you down the sewer with the rest of the turds.

To my face you speak lies backstabbers Inc.
Hello reeks of false goodbyes.

Who are you to cast me aside.
Madness has set in but id sooner trust a snake
than in you confide.

Poisen are your well shallow and cruel.
Think you understand this game?
Well it's time to take you all to school!

tidal waves

starting from the bottom,
    a life time
                     ago, inside backstabbers feeling the aftermath.
raising in anger

                  the sky above, gone so long.
lifted to

a journey of endless time, skies as dark as,
a blackened out knight.

a thief, not realising the fight,
                                                  that you daily gave flight.

academia loses me, swamping my left side,
my brain is crawling.

a right sided force to be reckoned with,
a release from the monotony of one
                                                           two
                                                             ­    three, safety in numbers.

war of the world ensues, it's a game of thrones.

red versus blue, black versus white,
knowing I always saw,
the creativity in,
                            me.

© Sia Jane

Every body playing me so close.
Use to cheer, now they kicking out the chair.
Guess they just showing me the ropes.
So, I do things my way,
and only keep a small circle.
So when things come around,
its all relative.
Cause backstabbers,
use relations; for shortcuts;
like it's relative.
What hurts most;
them using,
slow pokes and
different strokes.
The whole time,
they cloaked like we folks.

Life endures in loosing and gaining,
backstabbers and supporters.
Whether you enjoy drama in your life and the connection with reporters,
the news you tell them will just be announced for entertaining -
The media all around you,
the friends you thought stood by you.

I’ve been through those obstacles,
the times from when people choose to leave.
When I needed someone most, to listen and not be posted in articles,
all I got were blank responses, not once showing that they believe.
The trust I need towards certain people are now gone,
and that just gives me one strength, to move on.

True friends.
It’s funny how the saying goes,
in time you really discover who your real friends are.
That being said - take a moment, and think;
are the people in your life, the ones you can truly keep?
People who won’t judge or go around talking behind your back?
Around you all you get are stares, now you will know who caused the act.

I want you to open your eyes and see the reality,
I won’t lie or torture you, it’s like one of your family.
You deserve someone who you can trust at anytime,
give or take within every situation, every time.
I believe in you, so I give you permission to converse,
I promise I won’t hurt you - the emotion of feeling your worse.

Surrounded by backstabbers in this big cold world.
Every time I watch it swirl and turn,
I see the people bound with a curse.
Memories of yesterday in my eyes are nothing but a blur.

Everyday I wear mask over my charred face.
Don't look me in the eye, I never belonged to this place.
I am tired of living in this fake heaven.
It's too loud here to hear the angel's bell.
When the darkness fell,
I screamed for someone to take me to my own sweet hell.

The devil has heard my scream
and consoled me when I was sad.
He has made me a ton of promises
and trust me, they aren't that bad.
He might have lured me into a trap,
but now there is no going back.
I remember when night fell,
I went back to the devil and begged him to take me back to my own sweet hell.

Look me in the eye and you will see nothing ignite.
The war has extinguished the fire which burned bright.
Even the devil screamed in fear when he saw the ghosts inside of me.
I told him not to worry as I am a victim of a sweet old melancholy.
I saw all of them come to me and rip me to shreds.
It sure does feel good in my own sweet hell.

**** everyone who hurt you.
They were never worth your heart.
**** everyone who turned on you.
Everyone who left after they promised they would stay.
**** all your so-called "friends"
who wanted nothing more than to see you fall.
**** everyone who changed.
Everyone who swore they were different from
everyone else.
**** all the people who lied.
And those that did it behind your back, continuously?
Goes double for those backstabbers.
**** anyone who ignores you.
You aren't worth their time?
They aren't worth one more thought.
**** heroes, you don't need them.
You can be your own.

You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything.. You could be,yeah..you can be anything..Uhh,Yeah..(You could be..You-can-be-anything2)..You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything..just put yo mind to it dawg..You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything..just (put yo mind to it..2)..Yeah..Yeah,you-can-bee..anything.. Yeah you could be..Yeah you can be anything.. put yo mind too it dude..(Yeah..you can bee2)..anything...(Yeah you could be2)..(Yeah you can be anything2)..just put yo mind too it dude...Yeah put yo mind to it dawg..Cuhz, (Yeah, you can be2)..anything, just (put yo mind to it2) yeah dawg..You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything..Yeah..(you can be anything, Yeah2)..just..(put yo mind to it dawg,Uhh,Yeah,Aye2)..Cuhz,..(Yeah you can be2)..anything..Uhh

So let them busters & clowns joan they don't know what's best for you,Noo, they just jeaslous they just wanna be you, Yeah they don't know..(nothing2)..my *****,There's no right or wrongs, its just opinions..Uhh, so **** em,Yeah **** em all..my lil one stay strong.. My lil one stand tall, my lil one work hard at what you want, because my lil one you can ball..Yeah, when life gets tough & stressful, don't give up at all, just pray to God, even when life is feeling good, you still gotta pray & Thank him, be grateful of your opportunities that come & always keep yo eyes open & peeled because these haters be watching & they gotta alot of demons in their spirit, controlling they mind..
So they will try some ignorant dumb ****, just cause they hate They own life, & take yours so be mindful..real talk..Uhh

Rest in peace Lil Snupe,..R.I.P Chinx & Doe B too..Yeah life is rougher for a real one, especially when the world population is filled wit rat & snake *** ******, ****, Imma just stay strapped up like a lesbian, or Armageddon is tomorrow,Uhh..**** the evils of this world, Noo I won't bow down too em, Imma OFTR Soulja, so that means I'm ready for whatever man, Imma always speak my mind dawg, you can hate it but most respect it because it's blessing, real talk..Yeah..
Ayo, Imma always stay true to myself man, no I ain't nothing like these Devil worshiping faggets,Naw man..Uhh, yall fans of the wrong agenda, ,they selfish, they all some backstabbers.. like Judas..
Yeah, you could be anything ,that you wanna be, but don't try to be like them,man, these ***** made, so called entertainers distracting us from Satans plan of controlling this planet man, they thinking its all fun & games now homie untill they get terminated on judgement day when Jesus comes for all of the real ones, I'll bet they'll be regretting while they burning up in the pit of non stop falling...
so just aim to be yoself man, Yeah,Yeah because Yeah man..

You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything.. You could be,yeah..you can be anything..Uhh,Yeah..(You could be..You-can-be-anything2)..You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything..just put yo mind to it dawg..You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything..just (put yo mind to it..2)..Yeah..Yeah,you-can-bee..anything.. Yeah you could be..Yeah you can be anything.. put yo mind too it dude..(Yeah..you can bee2)..anything...(Yeah you could be2)..(Yeah you can be anything2)..just put yo mind too it dude...Yeah put yo mind to it dawg..Cuhz, (Yeah, you can be2)..anything, just (put yo mind to it2) yeah dawg..You could be..(Yeah you could be2)..anything..Yeah..(you can be anything, Yeah2)..just..(put yo mind to it dawg,Uhh,Yeah,Aye2)..Cuhz,..(Yeah you can be2)..anything..Uhh

My ***** do what you wanna do dawg,Yeah do whatever pleases your heart, ***** you can go far, just put yo mind to it dawg, stay focusing my *****, don't  stop, don't ever let no ***** *** hater block yo shine run they *** over if they get in the way...Like Ray Lewis would do, Yeah **..,Uhh..my ***** my offense, is my defense,too..Uhh,you gotta reach high like you picking up sativa plants from the ground,..Uhh
Yeah you gotta (reach high2)..don't keep no fishy ****** or untrustworthy **'s around ya...stay by yoself if you have to & always stay down dawg, no matter how much the evil offers you..forget them earn yo own income,Yeah dawg climb your own mountain, & call up to God only ..Uhh

Yo dawg, digg this, I heard money brings alot of trouble & drama but that's only if you allow it too man, so don't think that way dawg stay indulging in the positive things living brings to you..Yo, do yo own thing my *****, Aye, don't worry about tomorrow, but think forward, yeah plan yo future out, don't be so simple minded dawg, be yoself at all times, don't follow others, Yeah be a leader my *****..Cuhz, you can be anything, Yeah you can be anything that you want dawg,..believe in the words of this song, my ***** this is more than rap or a poem, this is scriptures, Yeah you gotta always have faith & hope, believe in yo self if nobody else won't..Uhh

***** you gotta..(dream4)..,my ***** you gotta..(believe3)...*****,Aye always keep (thinking3)..about who you wanna be..(Yeah2)..forget the haters put em underneath ya, man they just demons..my ***** they don't got nothing else better to do than make yo life miserable but you are way stronger than they are..I said ***** reach for the stars..reach high..(Yeah2)..because you can be anything , Yeah dawg, Yeah.. You can be anything..(Yeah4)...(you can be anything2)...that you want..
Dream..Believe...(Dream & believe3)..,put yo mind to it  dawg..Yeah
/you gotta..(Dream & believe2)../2
Cuhz, you can be anything that you put yo mind to mane..(Yeah2)..Aye

So let them suckers say what they wanna say about ya, **** em all & go get yo paper,prove them lames wrong my *****, stay in yo zone *****..Uhh, you don't need no friends, you don't need a **, all you need is God & yoself dawg,you gotta stay strong, you gotta believe Yeah you gotta dream, Yeah you gotta believe, Yeah you gotta..(dream2)..enormous,..Uhh..
Because you can be anything,..Yeah, Cuhz, you can be anything Yeah you can be anything.. (You gotta dream3)..,Yeah put yo mind to it mane..Aye..
(reach for the stars2)..Yeah..(reach for the stars*2)..Yeah reach for the stars..dream big dawg
Yeah..Young Ston Poet..OFTR..Aye

Looking up, I can see the old moon
In the arms of the new one.

Here I stand, at the edge of my demise
Overlooking the city on this building,
To gaze at how the bustle of this metropolis
Begs for release.
I will be the first.
I stand on the edge of my demise,
Its crowds of people faltering between
Fate and struggle,
This city of revolution
Where blood has been spilled on its streets.
I overlook the hustling crowds and see,
Down below,
               The swinging lifestyles,
               Thieves and soothsayers on every corner,
               Talebearers and backstabbers along the sidewalks.
Standing at the edge of my demise,
I long for wings to fly away
Like a dove, harmless and at rest I would be.

Atop this elevated place,
The light of early morning shines along
These towers of terror.

As I lift my foot to step off the edge,
I notice a puddle next to me.
Staring into this small basin of identity,
It reveals what I have missed–––
I remember what I have missed in me.
My face is unlike the rest of those
Who populate this hustling city.

Here come the Irishmen,kilted up and celted out,
about to to take the mic away and throw a smack into your mouth,
think they're ready lads?(nah I don't think so man)

No-one really wants a ****** sleeper hold from Sandman,
that's a pity cos your ****** rhymes are out of time,
cutting your umbilical-severing your lifeline,
save the fairytales skitz is reading grimms books,
looked into your future it was two words "you're ******"!
so **** the atmosphere,biosphere,feel the fear,
Grim Reaper in your sleep,lullabyes in your ear
like an earwig earworm but positive,
even though half the time the time things say are negative,
never mind blood type,rip the bag drink it off,
A Celt vampire,not sparkly with me shirt off
If I get me shirt off I'm Skyclad painted blue,
howlin'cross the battlefield to stick an axe in you!

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Me word is me bond and me eyes don't lie.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Speak truths clearly,me head held high.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night

See your guts drop,fullstop flip flop
just like 99% of all new Hip Hop,
what a mockery,you **** your pants in fear a me,
you're all the epitome of me me me me me!,
did me best to to help you out back in the day,
you spat it in me face so now I love your blood spray,
all brats,all backstabbers,not Celts,
if I take me belt off,the buckle leaves a welt,
across your facebones,skull+bones smashed bones,
are all's left if you step into the thunderdome,
to take a one on one,**** it bring your mates too
dental records-only way to ID you,
ICU will be your last place last breath,
you're literally starin' in the face of grim death
cause all your hatred is fuel for the fire-man,
its just like Thor shooting lightning bolts at Ironman.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Me word is me bond and me eyes don't lie.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Speak truths clearly,me head held high.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night

You're so illiterate,words are illegitimate,
the Old ***** ******* Skitz still spits raw ****,
try try cry,cause you'll never reach the top,
best sounds like you're throwing alphabet spaghetti up,
*******,philosophy-horrorcore-got em all,
the length and the breadth of my mind is immeasurable,
so while you're miserable,wishing for some company,
I'm x'ing off the names on the list of who's dissin' me,
keep ******' me off if you want to,
I don't need a glock to blow a hole right through you,
use my skill set hackin' you old school,
modem in my left hand,right holds a power tool,
run,run,fool 'fore I let the dogs loose,
hip hop strangle hold,Sandman with a noose,
take a lesson in,kid you got your cards dealt,
whipcrack,smack!-you got a belt of the Celt.

*A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Me word is me bond and me eyes don't lie.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.

A haon, a do. The only way to go is
a belt of the Celt and we're here to let ya know.
Speak truths clearly,me head held high.
And I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night.
Yes I've danced with the Seidh in the dead of the night...

I don't trust no one
Including myself
I figured a little too late
How societies operate
I can't speak with strangers
Never know could be danger
Watching my back
For backstabbers
My back hurts everyday
My bones crack everyday
My neck is pain to the brain
My body posture is broken

Although my physical is weak
My spirit maintains strong

That's it,I've had enough of it it's time to go,
all the work I've put in,with nothing to show,
the cronyism,phonyism,plagiarism,thievery,
like the Ireland I love is a fading memory,
reeling in the years,yeah great  nostalgia,
but staying any longer is a form of mania-
the banks and the builders and political ****,
it's all work no play,no mon no fun,
so **** it,now my bags are packed jack,I'm hitting the road
broad shoulders slowly dipping from the constant load,
of backstabbers,moneygrabbers,tribunals,and deaths,
make a break while I can,they haven't beat me yet,
yeah I gotta get goin' while the goin's good,
I hope you understand my reason's,both friends and blood,
now it's time to make a move before I go insane,
don't be grieving when I'm leaving on the next **** plane
(Sample john denver here)

"I'm leavin on a jetplane,don't know when I'll be back again"

Looking at those before me you can trace the tracks,
from the Wild Geese to the political flak,
the Children of Eire,like the Children of Lir*
fly from lake to lake,driven by need and fear,
and optimism-everybody wants a better life,
to escape the butcher's apron,and the subtler knife,
of poverty,loss of identity,clan's torn asunder,
a lightning storm rages,listen to the thunder,
austerity cuts,don't make me laugh,
fat greedy politicians cut your wages in half,
so they can stuff their faces,wallets,and banks,
said it 12 years ago,you think they give a ****?,
about your family's health,they say tighten your belt,
well mine's met in the middle,time to hand out welts,
a proud Celtic tradition flushed down the drain,
so slan leat for now time to catch that plane.

Took a long time,to make this decision,
every tear,every smile is another incision,
in the heart of me the start of me,born again,
looking at my boarding pass brings a pang of pain,
but everyone knows for me-it's time to move on,
and I'll keep the torch lit,Yeah-EC strong
turned from Hermit to Hermes,with a message to pass,
I've took enough names,time to kick ***,
so wish me luck wish me well,watch me give em hell,
I got a way with words and what a story to tell,
hurdles to pass and a long way to go,
so much to say but I still flow slow,
memories are pulling me in two directions,
spun my tires so long,time to gain some traction,
it's time for action,my reason's are plain,
so hold it down for me here,I gotta catch that plane"
(Sample john denver here)

"I'm leavin on a jetplane,don't know when I'll be back again"

Only you'll find the beauty of the end
when the process of going up
weighed you down
cutting ties with backstabbers
to remove the drama that goes along with it
you'll be known as an outcast
an exile to a life
that's not meant for your precious heart
and as you slowly loosen the grip
of the hands that betrayed you
you'll make room
for the peace that awaits at the end
and only that can make you realize
the true meaning of
A Beautiful Escape

I don't know why sometimes I think,
That my friends aren't traitors,
That my family aren't backstabbers,
That the people aren't fakers.

I always fall into the trap,
Of thinking everything's alright,
But then they disappoint me again,
Extinguishing the light.

They all just,
Leave me in the end.
They turn and never come back,
Never were friends.

They still have the knife
Behind their back,
Still dripping with blood,
From other times it has hacked.

That's why I don't trust anymore,
Why I never take down my walls,
If I take them down again,
Deeper I will fall.

What are friends? I'm not exactly the authority on this subject. I haven't owned any for very long. Before 8th grade, actually, there hadn't been anyone that really cared about me outside of my family. Teachers, sure, but teachers don't count as friends. My life had been a series of acquaintances, backstabbers, and cousins. There's been people who I'd talk to, but it was like talking to a brick wall because they, like all the others, didn't give a **** whether I was talking or not. My innermost thoughts and feelings were not of importance. They actually told me to go away a couple of times, and got offended when my feelings were hurt. "Whoa, man, can't you take a joke?" Those words feel like a knife in your heart. Not only are you wrong, but your feelings also aren't valid. I started acting like these people. I became negative, dramatic, in order to fit in. They still treated me like ****. I eventually escaped, and I want you to realize, people who don't care about you don't deserve to be around you. Friendships are relationships, and if you are fine just existing alongside someone and not participating or loving or supporting within the relationship, you are not a good friend, sorry. You have to work at it every day, build it, care for it tenderly because your heart deserves to be held as gently as you would. I want you to spend the only life you'll ever live with people who want to be there alongside you.

Today reality gave me a clear picture
I no longer see an illusion
But what I realize that my inception is my perception
Where am I? In this world I am a speckle of dust, diminutive I remain
Lost I remain, useless am I
I am tired of pretend faces
Weary of liars, cheaters and the world’s empty promises
I have seen more fake smiles
Than stupid rainbows of fantasy
I have witnessed life’s biggest moments
I watched mankind’s biggest failure
I know the feeling of defeat
Every time I come up for air
Life acts all unfair
The universe makes me the laughing stock
I have seen more backstabbers than genesis of day break
I met many monsters of this world
Monsters that are shoddier than demons that walk through the gates of hell.
They caused me more pain than piercing words of the devil himself
I have had my heart shattered to a million pieces
I have travelled pitch black paths that even darkness himself would never consider
I guess I got lost in life’s maze
I am dead beat from fighting to fit in
I am jaded from loosing invisible battles
I think it’s now Ok to say need I not any man’s opinion
I cannot take this feeling anymore
I now lay here… wondering…
How am I to escape?
Because veracity to the world
I was never human…… all I do is pretend, all I do is fake.
If life lets me… can I please ask… anyone out there?
What is it to be human????

We are growing into
a world of empty promises,
a world of dishonesty,
a world of trust issues,
a world of backstabbers,
& a world of one-sided efforts.

We're losing our motivation
of pursuing relationships & friendships.

We're sabotaging the progress
we're making to better our lives.

I don't know if this is my pessimistic thinking
or its reality.

Whatever it is, it's sad.