The fresh new song of the early morning birds is the first memory of the last time I ever woke up. I long to awake to the bright sun; peeking its premature rays of light into the darkness of the night. I feel this has been about five hundred days ago. I guess that is just the hangover speaking. Once more my mind, my body and soul are controlled by the evils of the world I chose. Oh well, suck it up right? Yes, of course. Today again will be the beginning of another round of autographs, for my acclaimed fan club. To think that one starting role, next to the most beautiful woman alive, could land me in the road of rich and fame. I never expected it. Oh, but I forgot they did assure the evils and greediness of the business in the contract; it appeared in bold dark letters. Silly me, it did warn me of the ungrateful son of a bitch I would become; and of all the failures of relationships I was assured to suffer. How stupid, of course I knew my signature was for the approval of the sale of my soul, what else could they have promised me? Huh? The long, rich, glamorous life? The hope, that my dreams can really come true? I thought so. But what good is it now to kick myself as I walk? If these promises were only guaranteed for a millisecond (in my mind anyway). Too bad I threw out my old clothes; I could've sold that to pay off one of my houses in Cancun. Oh yeah, I forgot, the memories too. And my family? Of course they deserved to be deserted in a time of need, because they where never there. Only the time they accepted my piece of crap idea I call a dream. Too bad they brought into the world the two biggest shit holes of the world. how I wish my father were here to see me screw-up my life each and everyday.
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