|
|
 |
|
 enny, << a cute little blond with big blue
eyes >>, as described from a Montreal
policeman, a << She's dead >>, he said. I
knew she had a few problems, but I didn't know. An overdose, I'm sorry >>. Yes a beautiful soul, so full of life, so inquisitive, so enigmatic, musically-inclined, artistic. No one will ever fit the bill, has gone to a spirit jour- ney on the other side. How did this happen? Again, the system is responsible. Yes society's corrupt system that sexually exploits youth, that sucks in the dollar to keep their businesses going. If you're young and beautiful, age doesn't matter, 11, 12 and up will do. The dream of the bright lights sways them - the promises of fame, money, belonging. They are our younger sisters, yearning to fit in with the up-tempo crowd, the older ones - 18 and up, who boost of the dollars they make- of the famous men they meet who drive fast cars (Mafia, drug men) yes, you can have it all just be like me. And see me dance, see me twirl, I'm a 14-year- old stripper. I've been chosen to be shipped off to Windsor Ontario- to more glamour and lights. - Oh, watch me, I'm somebody. Everybody loves me now. But the catcher is "Watch me in The Looking |
Glass". I also take drugs - it's cool - coke,
heroin, they are my friends. At 1st, they
teach me about a euphoric buzz, but then
they teach my body to hide my pain - forget
life's trivialities. Coke to keep you up all night
and heroin to help you sleep. Everybody
who's somebody does it. Do we get hooked? Our lives become not our own - we are not living - we dread death but we have a suicide wish. We lose our dig- nity, act, talk and become the drug. Do any- thing, lie, steal, turn trucks with men and women, oh, it doesn't really matter, as long as we feel okay - we stop feeling sick. Even life in and out of jail for 19 years doesn't deter us. Life, what life - it's living hell, everyday. And the sound of the Drum stops beating - we can bear it no more. We succumb to the inevitable - death at 33. Oh, be at peace my beloved; catch the businessmen who prey on - young spirits. Cry on another tear. Yes, Janette, you will not be forgotten for there can never be another you. All my love, Your sisters Debbie and Louise |
Back