'Here is My Real Head' series Pt. 3

Organ Grinder by Marilyn Manson
I am the face of piss and shit and sugar

I do a crooked little dance with my funny little monkey
What I want, what I want is just your children
I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being
Calliopenis envy from your daddy
You're not gonna hear what he don't want to hear
What I say disgusts him
He wants to be me and that scares him
"let's do a funny little dance with my funny little monkey"
The black keys
Here is my real head, here is my real head
I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
Here is my real head
They try to blink me not to think me
Don't want to bring me out
I am the rotten teeth, my fists are lined with suckers
My prison skin's an eyesore-mirror-sketch-pad
I am your son, your dad, your fag, I am your fad
Here is my real head, here is my real head
I wear this fucking mask because you cannot handle me
Here is my real head

Here is My Real Head series 
Pt. 1 - Addiction & Self Mutilation
Pt. 2 - Childhood Grooming & Sex and Relationships
Pt. 3 - Worth of My Peers & Trust
Pt. 4 - Being Honest with My Parents
Pt. 5 - The Sound and Feel of Carpet

5. Worth of My Peers

     There are quite a few people in my life that I don’t think the world would mourn over if they were to die tomorrow. Also, there is a smaller number of people that I believe are better off dead. They serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever to society and are positively a waste of existence on this planet. Their consumerism is wasteful, especially if it’s constant without equal or nearly rivaling productivity. This scale loosely decides who I would annihilate or cripple tomorrow if I were playing the fictional character God’s hands.

6. Trust
     I grow irritated when people claim they have trust issues. Typically these are people that are unable to handle the aspect of a healthy relationship that involves trusting their partner enough to not constantly badger them about cheating or their whereabouts. These are weak people, and mainly self-assigned as such. They are therefore casting themselves even deeper into the well of weakness. These folks don’t usually have historical issues with trust, they’re just bitches, immature and irrational bitches.

     If you have a history of trusting relationships gone awry, you don’t have ‘trust issues’. You have a genuine problem that needs addressing, care, and attention by yourself and what may seem unfortunate, by others you have to learn to trust. I am one of these people. To have been groomed so well—and I am so well groomed I belong collared and leashed on a showroom floor—that I had to have trusted the people that brushed me to their liking. With the intense level I climaxed and plateaued at, I trusted them an awful lot.

     I don’t trust anyone entirely, but not in the typical way. I don’t have the problem of trusting people with secrets because I don’t have anything that is a secret, or won’t be a secret for long.
I wouldn’t trust anyone, not even my parents, brother, family, or closest friends with my life. It’s a wonderfully cute concept to think of your loved ones saving your life, especially in the place of theirs, but I wouldn’t trust anyone to save me from death’s grip, especially if they were in harm’s way themselves or were being forced to choose between their life or mine.
I don’t whole-heartedly believe that anyone would give their life for me when it came to the carnal reality of being faced with their own death. Like Winston in the unfortunate year of 1984, I would expect them to shout at the top of their desperate lungs, “Do it to Alexis! Do it to Julia! Not me! Alexis! I don’t care what you do to her. Tear her face off, strip her to the bones. Not me! Julia! Not me!” I wouldn’t blame them, I accept the reality of a human being not wanting to die and offering up everything imaginable to not have to prematurely.
Truthfully, I’d be flattered if someone that loved me, loved me deeply enough to think of me for last person they’d offer instead of themselves as their ultimate sacrifice. By being last, I would be the most loved and I’d be honored by their ultimate and complete betrayal.
     In that light, I wouldn’t give my life for anyone I presently know. If I had to pick someone I’d die for, I couldn’t name someone I am personally acquainted with. If I could choose to die for someone I don’t know on a personal level, it’d probably be for Marilyn Manson or Richard Dawkins because of all the things they’re still doing for the world to make it a better place for children to grow up in, and children are the most important class to me. Were they to have stopped yesterday with no intentions of restarting their revolutions, they’d be scratched off my list of possibilities without little resentment, if any at all.
     If need be, I would endure physical and mental pain and torture in place of someone’s life, heck, I might even offer a limb for someone I deeply cared for. But if it came to my untimely death as a choice against theirs, they’re the ones dying prematurely.
     I have two main reasons, the stronger of the two is that I am young and have a lot I’m going to do in my life with more time to do it than the majority of the people I care for. I don’t consciously think of the people I love as being lesser than me, but an appropriate example of how my perception of trust differs is that I do not trust anyone other than myself to create productive and positive change in the world. No one could ever convince me they would without a doubt, though if someone were able to, I would reconsider giving my life for theirs because I don’t consider myself as an entirely above the collection of people I love because I have no proof that I am or am not. I might not be the most beneficial or productive to society out of the group, but I am the only person I can trust one hundred percent.
     I have high self-worth despite my flawed learned personality traits. In any other case my proclamation of self-worth wouldn’t be frowned upon, so don’t you care hypocritically frown here.