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aurelius
male . Kalon [3/3] . 34
he's a socialite, variety entertainer, and host of the upscale new vegas nightlife scene. but his perfect smile is only for show, and the celebrity hides the pain from his journey to fame behind fancy lights, expensive drinks, and the world that sparkles as though unreal each weekend night.
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sometimes i feel as though my world were part of a lucid dream.
i take in the darkening sky, the neon billboard lights, the skyline.
allow myself a deep breath, because i'd left the smell of smoke on the concrete a hundred floors below my feet
i stand on an extravagant cake built of metal and glass, filled with faces and lies.
i take a sip of my drink and put on my mask.
the sound of traffic fades into the buzzing of my mind.
i close my eyes and dive into the night.
floor one.
i am the main character tonight.
the rules of this game are simple- my guests are my joy, and i am their pride
the venus of the billboards and darling of the city: everyone knows who i am under my disguise, though that's not what it's for.
i bite the inside of my cheek instinctively.
cakes don't taste like metal.
floor two.
i am the host.
the affluent, the string-pullers, the faces most only see on TV- they all want a slice of my masterpiece,
and i'll cut each person the one that best suits them.
i am a businessman, and an entertainer
i am a confidant, maybe even a partner
i can be anyone and everyone you like
i talk, but these words aren't mine
i smile, but they don't reach my heart
so that i can become anyone- just never myself.
these slices of cake are filled with empty feelings
floor zero.
my guests will depart every so often,
i don't blame them, honestly
a beautiful dessert made of paper mache is still just glue and fiber
they leave this beautiful pavilion with the truth they came to find, and don't look back.
everyone leaves this place eventually- everyone but me.
because by the end of the night, i don't know who i am at all
i am nobody, and this gilded cake is my prison.
the lights are beautiful tonight, as usual.
-------------------
sometimes i feel as though my world were part of a lucid dream.
i take in the darkening sky, the neon billboard lights, the skyline.
allow myself a deep breath, because i'd left the smell of smoke on the concrete a hundred floors below my feet
i stand on an extravagant cake built of metal and glass, filled with faces and lies.
i take a sip of my drink and put on my mask.
the sound of traffic fades into the buzzing of my mind.
i close my eyes and dive into the night.
floor one.
i am the main character tonight.
the rules of this game are simple- my guests are my joy, and i am their pride
the venus of the billboards and darling of the city: everyone knows who i am under my disguise, though that's not what it's for.
i bite the inside of my cheek instinctively.
cakes don't taste like metal.
floor two.
i am the host.
the affluent, the string-pullers, the faces most only see on TV- they all want a slice of my masterpiece,
and i'll cut each person the one that best suits them.
i am a businessman, and an entertainer
i am a confidant, maybe even a partner
i can be anyone and everyone you like
i talk, but these words aren't mine
i smile, but they don't reach my heart
so that i can become anyone- just never myself.
these slices of cake are filled with empty feelings
floor zero.
my guests will depart every so often,
i don't blame them, honestly
a beautiful dessert made of paper mache is still just glue and fiber
they leave this beautiful pavilion with the truth they came to find, and don't look back.
everyone leaves this place eventually- everyone but me.
because by the end of the night, i don't know who i am at all
i am nobody, and this gilded cake is my prison.
the lights are beautiful tonight, as usual.
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colors (matched to palette)
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