kindov like this. but not at all
Cuz I sabotage myself. Cuz I don’t wanna kill myself.
Cuz once I’m a big name, I’ll probably be an even bigger coke and prostitute fiend than I am now and inevitably go the way of Farley, except fatter.
So subconsciously I throw a wrench in the gears that requires a significant detour whenever I gain momentum to fame, stardom and plastic cups with my face on them.
It all makes sense now… I must fail…so I may live.
but then again, if I live and fail…have I truly lived?
but then again, if I truly lived and truly succeeded and then truly died, wouldn’t my E True Hollywood Story be pretty entertaining? and isn’t that what I live for? to entertain? and don’t I always like to leave them wanting more and never overstay my welcome? so dying at the top of my game in fame wouldn’t be all that bad, right?
ok. its decided.
I’m gonna go be famous for real this time.
Hollywood/Graveyard HERE I COME!
Leave a Reply