"The marionetter has your number
Pulling your arms and legs till you can't stand on your own
Dragging your conscience on the stage
and your heart gets rearranged
and you cannot tell your mentor from your maker"
In life a person never makes a decision completely on his or her own. There is always someone to look towards for advice, some input before a plan is put into action. After all everyone wants their lives to be accepted by others if only in a tiny way. People become depended on one another, a bit too much. The world tries to pull you in all directions. One could work hard to please the people to his left, and then realize the right side didn't agree with the actions. Or vice-versa. It is enough to drive anyone insane, but still the worlds general population seems perfectly content being one another's puppets with invisible strings just waiting to hang you.
I always did what my parents except from me. Always well behaved, yes ma'm no sir type of a child. Even as a teenager I continued with that behavior. I left the wild and crazy antics up to Clu; it seemed to fit him well. I thought I was happy being the dutiful son. I hardly ever got into any serious trouble, my teachers adored me, and all my peers respected me. Then I would look at Clu. He always did what he wanted, a free spirit without anyone holding him down, or directioning his movements. I became jealous. I lived my life with somebody in control of me for too long to stop it now. I was quite custom to try to please the whole world living my wants in the background.
I like to pretend that quitting college against my parents' wishes was my idea, and my idea alone. That one day I stopped going to class and decided I had enough of this rubbish! I did hate school, not that I told anyone that, oh no good little Carey loves school! I often wonder why I didn't go through a rebellious teenager phrase in my middle to high school age? Oh it doesn't really matter now. I wanted to quit school more then I wanted anything in my entire life, or least up into that point. I was afraid. Afraid of what they might say, of what would happen to me; I had nothing to fall unto, just afraid of disappointing anyone that could care about me. Spring break came around and I left the campus as if the devil was shoving his pitchfork up my ass. I still unfortunately had every atend to return.
The tour was simply wonderful. It involved my favorite things; family, friends, music, food, and a bus. I have always liked the bus; don't ask why I just have. Everything that I truly cared about were at my fingertips and I was at last relaxed. The relaxing feeling that had soon grown accustom to quickly vanished when I learned classes resumed in two days time. I swear I could nearly feel the knife being shoved into my chest and being twisted. I then did something against my entire nature and approach on life; I lied. I informed everybody on the tour that classes rebegan on the 19th and not the 15th, I could easily make up the missing days. I needed a few more days! Big mistake. After those few more and come and gone I added a few more and then more after that. Before I knew it I had reached so many extra days of break, nothing could be done to make up the lost days. All I could do is quit.
"Look
at the crowds bleeding with laughter
Over the way you entertain at beckon call
They don't see behind the lights, or the painted backgrounds
They just like to see you fall"
I never really thought having the ability to play the guitar would get me anywhere in life. After all a large percent of the world can play some instrument of one sort or another; and only a small portion involve it into their careers. As a child I would pretend and tell everyone who would listen that I was going to rock legend, the rock God to be idolized for my generation. Pretty big and more importantly unrealistic dreams for such a small child. Going on tours during the summer with my dad helped fed that little fantasy of mine. How could not one imagation rock and roll fame when you have musicians such as Kiss feet away? It would be like for a high school theater student wasn't inspired to dream of Oscar filled futures when talking to Tom Hanks. Molly gave me the chance to start the process of creating that once fool-headed dream into a reality.
For once I really didn't care that my parents more importantly my mom disagreed with my actions. The idea of living for myself was so foreign to me I almost didn't know what to do. So I just did pretty much nothing. Became lazy, never thought of any ideas of forms of fun, just went along with whatever Jack, Fiona, and Clu (before he left) wanted to do. I didn't mind, it was fun even. On that stage the guitar next to my body like it was invisibly stapled to me, I felt unspeakable joy. The moments when Molly would flirt with me were especially fond to me. The entire world with just venue could disappear and I would forever be happy. Maybe.
Playing with Molly and the band, hearing the crowds cheer, the cuts on my fingertips from playing hours on top hours was what I had loved. Soon though I began to wonder if there was anything else I wanted? This tour wasn't going to rocket launch me into musical history books. I couldn't say goodbye to them though. It took me over twenty years to make the rest unassisted move with my life, would it take another twenty to make the second one? Well people had quickly grown used to drop-out, musician Carey I might as well let them hold that image for a bit. It wasn't that bad after all.
I could still feel my strings being gently pulled. Trying to move me in all directions, some more possible than others. I was a child again or so it seemed that way. And sadly, I did nothing to stop the tugs. It was like I was there just for everyone to live their fantasies and desires through me. If they couldn't achieve a dream or a goal for any reason good old Carey could do it! Soon they all forgot I was a real person and not a little toy to be tossed around at their aggression.
"But
you don't really mind
Cause you're just wasting time
You can't feel anything
You're a boy on a string"
I still think I could improve from myself as a human in many more ways than I'm putting forth. Comfort is a critical key of my existence. And having the ones I love and the ones I bleed to death for to be happy with me ultimately makes me comfortable. I see their eyes when they look at me, full of respect. I am respected. But for what? That I do as I'm told? I'm a nice person? I can play the guitar? Or a combination of them all and many other things? Oh I really don't care, because my feelings are not important. One day I'd like to care more then I do, but I don't understand how that will ever be possible. Why do I suddenly feel as if I'm stuck in my own fucked up limbo? Instead of being stuck between Heaven and Hell it's instead between My Life and Their Control.
They all love me and I love them. It's a natural and comes from my heart without a second thought of reconsideration. I have never been in love with someone. I refuse to become emotionally involved into a relationship fear is the number one reason. Everyone fears that kind of love so I don't feel as if I'm part of the minatory. There are moments where I crave the extra attention, in which I feel as if I shall explode. But it's not here. And I'm too content on aiding to everyone else's needs and wants that I can't search for it.
Molly at moments I think I might be in love with her. The same kind of love I just mentioned. That's not possible though! Just even fiddling around with the an idea like that is past the definition of sick. Why though? I really don't know, it just doesn't seem natural and acceptable in society. Molly would never love me more than a friend and an honorary son. My family, the Phillips, everyone else in my small circle of loved ones would hate me forever if I let my feelings of her be known. So I try to forget them, but she sure doesn't make it easy with the little smiles and winks she passes my way on the stage. Doesn't she know what she is doing to me!?
"I
feel a sadness like Gapetto
watching the life that he created run away
Seeing the puppeteer's intrusion,
and holding the remains of puppets that had rotted away
One day the curtain will not open
And all of the crowds will go away
Someday those strings will choke you, but until that day"
Life has more to offer me, it has more things I want to experience, but I don't care. My family has provided me with everything in some way or another. Shouldn't I be thankful for that? And trust with their guidance and non-sudal pushing I will uncover that something else out there. I love myself, I hate myself, I don't know even know who I am. Where do I end and their control begins? I don't want to be grateful of the control that has embedded my life since birth. I hate it! There I said it at last. I'm tired of playing pretend and never questioning my parents. A person is allowed and excepted to question the existence of God and the whole entire universe but your not suppose to question your parents. Am I the only one that finds that the tinniest bit odd?
I want some much but at the same time want so little. Of everything I could ask or wish for on a falling star happiness would be it. Not have everyone happy and me just to grin like a monkey dancing before the crowds in the street. The kind of happy where I'm in charge of my life. I consistently think of the day in which I might reach this. I never do anything though. Guilt raises within my being, why must I be so ungrateful? I feel as if I am running in circles. Unable to keep emotions in check and in complete control. They think I have a good head on my shoulders. If they only knew of it all.
No one ever frets over what Clu is doing. Molly cares about Jack and Fi but she never ties them to an
invisible leash. Why me!? Why did I have to be born first? Even though I dream of escaping, secretly
hating their ability to be individuals.
I'll never leave. Being their
puppet is my destiny. I might as well
get used to it.
"But you don't
really mind
Cause you're just wasting time
You can't feel anything
You're a boy on a string"
It's only the rest of my life. 50 years at the most. It's only ironing on a fake smile for all the world to see. I could learn to love it. I could.