Fuckin' Perfect

You're so mean
When you talk
About yourself

- Fuckin' Perfect, Pink

I got two weeks notice.

I've noticed a pattern- ever since my audition in L.A., things have been going downhill. I try- I strive to be the best possible that I can be, and it never seems to add up. I'm always doing something wrong. Or saying something wrong.

Somehow, I always end up the one getting hurt, even at my own expense. Even when I hurt others. Even though I try not to show it. I guess that's why I'm a performer. Fake smiles and chitchat come naturally to me. I can hide the tears in my eyes while I'm doing tour en lairs and singing Gershwin.

You know what I mean.

I'm an actress.

It's my profession.

It's natural.

And I don't mean it to be, I just....

I don't know how else to react. I cry when I get home, ball into my coffee, and take to the dance floor or the computer to fill the void of whatever I've lost.

I try to be strong; I put on a good front, when I want to rip my hair out and scream at the top of my lungs. I tell everyone that I'm okay, when all I really want to do is curl up in a ball and sob until I can't breathe. And when I do let go, I lose my temper and go after everyone in my path until there's nothing left but blood and carnage.

And I'm sorry.

I'm truly sorry.

Everyone thinks I'm wonderful, that I'm such a good girl, that I do what I'm told and I don't talk back to people, that I don't have an evil or bad thought in my head. If you really knew me, you'd see sides of me that you wouldn't like. You'd see sides of me that scare me; and that I wish I could get rid of.

I hate myself. I hate that I fool everyone, that I can't be honest with myself. I hate that I don't see what they see when they look at me. I hate that I have such a negative image of myself, but I don't know how to change it. I hate that I spend the majority of my time apologizing for things I didn't even do.

They had every right to lay me off. A friend of mine said that if they don't pay me for the four days I work after payday, that that's a crime of some sort or other; that they owe me for the four days I work after payday and until my last day. It doesn't matter whether I get paid for the four days I work after payday or not.

They don't owe me anything other than my paycheck on the 16th. That's all they owe me. Nothing more, nothing less.

I will miss the people though. I love working at the store, and the people are wonderful and they've become good friends, and I'll miss them come my last work day.

But as for the store, they don't owe me anything. Nothing. And I don't want anything.

No, that's not true.

I do want something, but not from the store.

I want....  

I just want....

I just want someone to tell me that everything's going to be okay.

That I'm going to be okay.

Made a wrong turn
Once or twice
Dug my way out
Blood and fire
Bad decisions
That's alright
Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated
Misplaced
Misunderstood
Miss knowing it's all good
It didnt slow me down.

Mistaking
Always second guessing
Underestimating
Look I'm still around

Pretty, pretty please
Dont you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Fucking perfect

Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You're fucking perfect to me

You're so mean
When you talk
About yourself, you were wrong
Change the voices in your head

Make them like you instead
So complicated
Look how we all make it
Filled with so much hatred
Such a tired game

It's enough
I've done all I can think of
Chased down all my demons
I've seen you do the same

Oh

Pretty, pretty please
Dont you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Fucking perfect

Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You're fucking perfect to me

The whole worlds scared
So I swallow the fear
The only thing I should be drinking
Is an ice cold beer

So cool in line
And we try, try, try
But we try too hard
And it's a waste of my time

Done looking for the critics
Cause they're everywhere
They don't like my jeans
They don't get my hair

Exchange ourselves
And we do it all the time
Why do we do that?
Why do I do that?

Why do I do that?

Yeeeeaaaahhh
Oooooooh
Oh baby pretty please

Pretty, pretty please
Dont you ever feel
Like you're less than
Fucking perfect

Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You're fucking perfect to me

You're perfect, you're perfect

Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You're fucking perfect to me

 

-Fuckin' Perfect, Pink