Happy

Musik: Girl Anachronism - Dresden Dolls
Kleiden: PJ bottoms, cherry top
Filme: Blade Runner (Scott)
Buchen: None


I come from a nation,
Surrounded by the sea
And yet,
I barely see
The rolling waves upon the shore
The rush is of traffic;
Car horns, sirens, alarms,
Everything chaotic, ambling fast,
It goes and goes…
Bright lights flicker in the disallowed darkness,
We are afraid.
But there is greater darkness still than I can imagine,
Behind the scenes
Of the rushing workers
Are the young men with vicious substances,
Knives, and violent intentions.
They’re walking around in between;
The glittering apparel, gluttonous greed, sale-able sexuality,
They are a part of it.
Yet at odds, just as I am-
This life wears us all down;
We’re trying to cope; to be a part of all of this,
The insatiable greed, the desperation for recognition,
Whatever the cost, there must be money involved-
Or else, some kind of tangible objective.
What is it to be happy?
Everything is buildings, shelter, prisons,
Exclusion, cold stone bricks,
And why do you live outside?
There’s plenty of room; our world is inside.
Warm buzz of electronic inclusion…
Are you a faggot? Paki? Spaz? Whore?
All of the above, if that’s even possible!
Oh, should I be fighting?
You see, by merit of my existence
I was not simply handed an invitation to it.
Can I not just be? Must you involve me?
I am so tired.
I think, like all of us, I just want to be happy,
But on this island of intense density
I can scarcely move for seeing pain;
Ignored, patronised, blamed.
My body is not my body;
It is an expression of values, of issues that affect me,
I cannot be rid of the damn thing!
Well, one cannot simply be a mind I suppose.
Weighed down by heady haze
Of voices screaming, hands grabbing, pulling me,
Which way ought I to go?
It is all so dreadfully
So dreadfully
Important.
And I’d better choose right.
And I’d better choose my words correctly.
But not too correctly;
For fear of being laughed at.
I can have a label, if I design it myself;
Here, have some card, some crayons, prit-stick and glitter
Create your own,
Oh no, dearest, not so much of the glitter
A little more of the red shading
We don’t want to be ostentatious now, do we?
I am broken, but that’s okay!
Let’s see, let’s see!
They all want to gawp at my wounds,
Want me to display them,
That I might encourage all to do the same.
Pose naked, ironically
Because the wanker will notice!
And good God, believe what you want,
Just don’t talk to me about it,
Don’t do anything too extreme,
Go about it as though it did not matter at all.
But for God’s sake, express yourself!
Here, have some more card-
You can make us a poster about how you feel.
You wrote a song? Oh, how lovely!
Have a gold star…
Only if you are purist,
If there’s any doubt in your mind, we’ll take it back.
Be a part of something, you simply must,
You were born into it, can’t turn your back,
But what if I want to?
Is that so wrong?
I don’t identify, can’t relate, cannot understand.
I am not like them;
They are like ME.
And fuck me,
Please? What’s the big fucking deal?
If I change my mind, you can rape me;
I was wearing fuck me clothes, a fuck me expression,
Said things that could only mean…
I don’t blame you,
Every single day girls in lingerie
Are paraded before your eyes; asking for it.
I’m just another one of them-
Not real, not real, not real…
And I don’t mind,
Really.
You’re like the young men in the dark,
The minorities,
The people forcing me to fight,
The people I’m fighting against,
You’re like me;
You want to be happy.
For fuck’s sake:
Be happy.