When die-mo(u)nds are your very best "friend"

...the slave has always been the slave master's master....posing on that dollar, aspire to be the slave master of all slave masters...law of averages, numbers got your back....big "dog" warrior, right? Like IG-KNEE-OUS rock, paper, scissors rock! Buy the numbers, in the mirror, fucking shine...it gets you closer to those running the show, and yet what you aspire to be...let's layer it back to ancient times...you got the numbers, you doing a good job...you're friends with the folks running this game...get your fucking ticket to Jerusalem (remembering salem and the witches drowned, not as important of course, less money) and tour that fucker, be in THAT kind of good...you got IT all figured out...this just in...not a fucking clue. By all means though, smile big for the camera baby. Be good, like folks running the show can't figure you out...Like sleeping with the enemy was never a thing? Here, let me help you glue those angel wings on, evervescent to the sky, like a rocket, heavenly nothing. BIG money hustler, #bullshitonparade...Take your last breath of this life, may the "word" save you on that get IT don't get it plan. Just ride your bullshit all the way out, as for these families tied to the ancient hell...put on the act like they can't read. Get it...not likely...always...fucking....smile. It's easier that way, right? WIN SO FUCKING BIG...HUSSSSSSS....LER! FROM SLAVE TO SLAVE MASTER....NOT A SLAVE....TOTALLY....WE PROMISE...NOT A SLAVE AT ALL...REALZIED...ALIVE....WINNING...ABSOLUTELY....OUR LITTLE SECRET! You "WINNING" that paper. The most compet...IT...TIVE? On the dollar bill next year! Crossing the FINISHED line...applause is entirely there for you. You smile, we smile, we all smile for ICE-SCREAM...Just one big, HAPPY fucking family. No hell in-sight. America, this really is FREEDOM...shhhhh, don't question, just fuck off with EVERYTHING. Larger than life, like WALKING the dead....Imaginary paper friends that buy the love that you need today...same bracket, understanding each other, in the mirror...that's LOVE baby...Acquisitions inc, rotting away, no, floating into a heavenly fuzzy love nothing abyss...after all, you worked so hard to finally meat your hollywood love in the mirror. You got it...you fuck every night in that perfect bedroom...Like laura ingles sucking a good wholesome cock...the community supports you and your love...as for the homeless...fuck it...love is in the Mansion, like Manson...like Dionysus leading up to that Bacchae campaign. The grapes are wine...and so many to be mine...let the kids mop the blood off the floor. Fuck it. For now, we smiling, like heaven is a place called earth...get this bullshit today. No one following your bullshit...just you in this life, realizing your best. Smiling. Loving all. Pretending. Hustling it up with the best of the best of the best, best, best. Nothing slave at all. Master design, even if we can't follow the ancient forumla...born to synthesize, oh no, born to thrive. Born to live it up in that mirror, to reach beyon the insecurity and to lead one shackle at a time...shhh....banked on paychecks, while banking, but no clue as to what it all means..again, just fucking SMILE...Smile bigger than the biggest of all SMILES....make it love, so the ancients can take it straight to the needed hell that you represent. But you are so sweet? Like the good witch of the north fucking dorothy over...like a persimon before the bitter...you are all that is the very shine of humanity leaving all of those, just as human as the next, with something a little less on the rise, because that's how good of a being you are...to roll like that, and all without question...That kind of leader. We got you! Again...there's the camera, there's your fine ambition...fucking smile...you got it all night long...brain blast til distorition...til the end....this, at best, is merely an obliterative on the rise, like a cock on a hot tin roof, on the blance beam routine, not out of inspiration, but rather desperation...when the feet simply desire the coolness of the air...take a picture...enjoy the action...sense the moment in time as being just for you...as for the misery....doesn't workout well for flash photography. Heat up the tin, and carry this goosestep on. To overwhelm the senses and to push that trajectory....to command the allegiance upon the manipulation...to hold friends in that manner....among the layers and layers of hardship, that few would ever follow...it's truly a feel-good moment this world. To see the beauty before you, displaying upon a mirror, only hoping to wittness a brutal death, bloody hell on the screen like a tarnetino film...to hold to one's manners, moving the levers without lifting a finger...tensions rise, the oblivious thrive for a short-breath, until...this price among all the pretty-pretty little things. Marilyn had her day...she's dead. Have your day as well. Let me know how it works out for you. That dirt empire? You got paradise? Bring that energy to remind us...You got us, we got it, nothing over your head at all? You closer with the running the show, and yet...what did I say? Elevating with s-ain't vapor...feeling good...roll tide...like an origin unknown....didn't put the work in, but you got this work out routine don't you? WIN IT! Mirror-to-Mirror...Embrace your birds of a feather-tether ball...round and round...striving outward until the bullshit pull you right back in...shit smeared all over that smiling, Mickey, face. You were a leader, but you weren't. How we feeling? Like shit? Oh, no. Like a player, player, straight from the in-denial book. Rinse and repeat...smiling face among the mirror saves...no one will ever follow, just pure bravado, to deliver that kind of strength...oh my! Evolved!! Sure...fucking...thing. Slave master on the stage, surely not being played....Get the upgrade today!