So what do you do to deal with shame?
You wear a mask.
For years I wore this:
<- This is what YOU saw. Calm, collected, cool . . . unemotional . . . untroubled.
But THIS is what was going on INSIDE:
Note the DEMONS beating the children and men to construct the mask. THOSE DEMONS ARE THE SHAME SOCIETY BUILT. Sorry Society; I know you have trouble stomaching that maybe you, too, as well as our abusers, are culprits in the destruction of a child’s soul, that and of a man as well.
The TRAIN contains YOU, Society, traveling at high speed (so you won’t have to SEE ME) towards the Emerald City where YOU all live. I’m stuck out in this damn desert – building EYES THAT REFLECT WHAT I SEE: YOU!!! (And your damned shame.)
See the Storm in the Background? That represents the storms in my head – oh, and by the way: see those little figures getting struck by lightning? Those are the “souls” in me you ‘killed’ dead.
They were part of me, GD-it! Luckily — like a Hollywood monster: nothing stays dead. Like little freakin’ Zombies, (Children, too, LOL!) – they come diggin’ their way back out of their graves: and then they eat your brain. (Gee, and you didn’t think I’d mention the mountains of hell, eh? Or how about that blue blue sky where YOU’RE going. Guess what: all I got is a dark pit full of … where all hope is lost . . . and I watch you go by, ignoring, and if I cry out for help, it’s: “F You.”
Yeah, I’m bitter. But I’m better. No thanks to you. Get it together folks; it doesn’t have to be like this.
Somethings gotta change. And I’m tired of being the one always making the changes.
Signing off: Me and the Soldiers; my boys and I, and a whole lot more.
Gotta protect them kids, ya know. You aren’t. Damn you.
PS: And yes, we did the graphics, in case you’re wondering. Thank you; rate if you like it, please.