I've stood still all my life while you controlled everything I ever said, everything I've ever done. And I'm sick and tired of being a puppet of unknowing puppeteers. Oh, some disbelief I see on your unknowing faces. You don't believe me? Think I'm crazy? Say you don't know what I'm talking about?Well, you're right about the last one -- you don't know what I'm talking about -- and I would be the second if I weren't up here trying to reverse the first.
It's a great show I'm going to be putting on up here for your amusement, but not nearly as great as the one you're all involved in. That's the greatest show on earth.
And I don't want it. I don't want your emotional white elephants, your calliope church-music, your transvestite Punch-and-Judy routine with antipathetic brick-bats. I don't want to go on with the show, old trouper.
But Pinochio does. He has no other choice.
He may walk and talk without strings, he still does the show, the same as the puppet-master with a nose as long as Pinochio's. That puppet-master lies to himself. He tells himself that he's in control of Pinochio because Pinochio is made of wood and that he himself is the truly alive one. He forgets that Pinochio moves without strings -- just like he does. He's deluded himself. Pinochio controls his actions as well as he controls Pinochio's. The puppet's the puppet-master and the puppet-master the puppet.And you're a puppet and I'm a puppet and the strings lead from both of us to the other and we pull back and forth and our noses grow and grow and tangle our fragile strings we dare not break 'till we all become so entangled, we're strangled in the hangman's noose of our noses making.
And it all begins so simply, so sympathetically simply, so pathetically simply. The first time you were ever rejected -- the only act of God in the whole acid test -- scared you so badly and calloused and tenderized you so much you couldn't stand the trauma.
And the first impression! first impressions became the trigger of the trap of blowing your brains in, because you were never outward enough. A person meets another person and from then on you're stuck and the cable cars start commuting devoid of commuters. From then on you've got to be what he thinks you are and he's got to react to the way you think he is. But you've both only seen the nose because they've grown so big, you self-deluder you, it hides the real you.
And it works. You're stuck in a swamp of subconscious empathy. Oh, you can wriggle around in the debris of your latest social structure, but you're trapped down there and the room is slowly flooding.
And that's why I'm stuck, I live down to your expectations. I become just as inane and mundane as you are -- and not insane as I'd like to be.
You've got me stuck within the structure and it's got to be a super-structure the way it's holding everyone in its grip. Its got me and its got you and we built it together and then partitioned ourselves off.
But I don't like it. It's a lie built upon a lie.
I prefer to build my lies upon the truth. But you can't see the truth, no, not ever, you can never see the controls of the ship of your life, you 'master of your fate.'
Well, I refuse to be controlled any longer.
My mind and my emotions -- especially my emotions -- are free from you right now and I'll be the person I am and love who I wish and hate whom I wish and not be an incognito cog in the meat-grinder like the rest of you.