launchpad

WP 170 (Scared China-man): They tell me, “You’ll go far, Danny boy, you’re a star, man.” But don’t stars burn out, and all you see is the remnants? I’ve been this paranoid, since I was a nervous kid, man. Overweight, Chinese spectacle, trying to get through adolescence. And now here I am, trying to get through the present, my spectacles still slipping, and I’m a show for your senses. I might be a good fella, but am I here for your amusement? I’m used to it, usually, it’s become an institution. I start me off my days with a boost and my two steps, solitary me, three’s company, so do step. I’m trying to be courteous so please carry on lest we lose it. Alright, I mean me, I’m like a bomb without the fuse lit. I’ll be honest until the day I go, I’ll try to be translucent. It’s just hard when you’re on your toes and eggshells guide your movements. You think it’s easy being me? Let’s take a walk, you must be new to this. It’s called empathy, and mentally I take a bruising. I think more than I oughta, and they tell me to please loosen. Up is where we need to look but not so much that you’re useless. No earthly good, a weirdo that’s aloof to the music. In his own world, wishing for a girl that could soothe it. The aching, the breaking, the masterpiece theater that’s a nuisance. You call me critical, I call it simply my two cents.