the sellout

never were you so accepted as you were when you were sucking off the world.

there once was a painter,

a writer,

a singer,

who painted a picture,

wrote a novel,

sang a song,

and someone loved it soooooooooo much

that they told said individual

that they’d give em’

some moola for it---

from then on,

the painter, writer, singer

painted the same painting over & over again,

wrote the same novel over & over again,

sang the same song over & over again,

making a career out of trying to sustain that feeling

of perceived

ACCEPTANCE

which came with the self-exploitation of one’s own

idea &

they

died

crying

in

a

puddle

of

their

own

mediocrity.