-Savage Garden; Santa Monica
Looking around I see what I've always wanted, the beautiful people, the expensive clothes, the fame. But if I were to look closer, what would I see? Icons without minds, faces without lives, freedom or privacy. The outer shells of those before me, whose innards have been scraped out.
One glance to the mirrored wall beside me and I'm not there, but I'm no vampire, it's just not me. Looking around again I wonder, were they like me, did it come to a point of live or let die? "You've come this far, why not keep pushing, you won't become one." Promises turned to lies, I'm already halfway there, I can tell. Did they feel alone, like no one would understand, like the last sacrifice needed to be made, there is nothing left to go back to anyway.
I'm looking at what I've always wanted straight in the eye; seeing hell.