De memoires van Cassandra en Cassanova, final chapter.
09-10-2009
Püppchen du bist mein Augenstirn
What lies are worth revealing? What really is truth after all. If you
lie to me and I never find out, do I need to worry? But I do, I do find
out, I can feel it. You're own behaviour gives you away, time after
time. I read your mind and it tells me everything. I wonder why it's
taking you so long to get over your guilt. That puzzles me. You've
always done it, why still bother? Are you trying to see how far you can
go? As far as you please. That's the whole point. I can't leave, I'm
in the cage. Only thing I can do is not to worry about it. To close
myself up again. You'll never really love me, not unconditionally
that is. There's always the condition that you yourself have to gain
something out of it. Where are you? What are you doing? Questions that drive me on the verge of insanity. If I don't know, do I care? If you know you don't care? Agony, day after day, insecurity, I'm so worthless in your eyes. You don't respect me at all. You can't kill me. I'm already dead, inside my world, inside my head. I run from side to side, locked away in my cage, no sleep, no tears, no games, go feed me to the vulptures. Hang my corpse out to dry. You can't love me. Why do you even stick around?
