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Sunday, 29 November 2009

The Marionette

"So if you got real love, let me see you put your hands up."
If This Isn't Love - Jennifer Hudson

You wanna insist? You still wanna jump on my back, whack me with your crtuches and ask me if it's enough? For you information, whatever you said for the past 24 hours has been in one ear and out the other.

What on earth are you trying to prove? I've had enough from you for the past week, and you still want to ask. I really don't care. You sabotaged your own relationship. Stupid 13 year old Chinese lala bimbos like her are all over the place, making this country a dump, but if she's your type then go find another one! Be a part of the idiots who tear apart society and make people like me feel bad. You know what!? You all were meant for her. All stupid blind fools. You can't see the strings that suspend you from the puppet master. So far the show has been a wreck, and your skulduggery has made you all look like some corrupt politicians trying to stab each other in the back.

It's like that game that you all used to play when you were kids. The one where a balloon is tied to your ankle and you try to pop someone else's one while protecting yours. I never played that because I was scared of balloons and didn't have the heart to pop one, but that's only half the reason. You all look like you're having so much fun destroying what belongs to others while protecting yours. It just seemed rather selfish to me.

So what if she's hot? She has no sense to think for herself, and she can't stand for herself as if she was made of tofu. You all try to "love" her. You know what your love looks like? Let me show you...

It's CHEAP, it DOESN'T LAST and it's BUYABLE. You all bathe in cash everyday. Surely you have money to blow out on her. Take her out, pay for her meals, buy her what she wants, settle her toilet charges at the mall, search the world for a drink stand or a vending machine when she's thirsty. Think about it. You're not her boyfrend, YOU'RE HER SLAVE.

You sound like you're working for some out-of-proportion hitman company that's paying you 3 mg of this "love" with every favour you do when you talk on the phone.

She made you cry? Aww, I'm sorry. Here, let me get you an onion. She reduced you all to bloody cripples. You all are lying on the floor as if all three of you had 10 pots of creme de menthe each last night.

Waaaittt. Before you pick up that phone, turn on caps lock and start screwing at me, did I mention you? Did I mention which planet you're from? Did i mention who your girlfriend was? I don't think so. What makes you think this is about you!? Don't come to me with any crap references that it's obvious who you are. It's not. It's general. I could even be talking about God here. Who knows? Me and ONLY ME.

200 mg of Love,

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