A Manifesto: Lady Gaga

There’s something heroic about the way my fans operate their cameras. So preciesely and intricately, so proudly, and so methodically. Like Kings writing the history of their people.

Its their prolific nature that both creates and procures what will late be percieved as the “kingdom.” So, the real truth about lady gaga fans lies in this sentiment: They are Kings. They are the queens. They write the hisory of the kingdom, while I am something of a devoted Jester.

"It is in the theory of perception that we have established our bond. Or, the lie, I should say, for which we kill. We are nothing without our image. Without our projection. Without the spiritual hologram of who we percieve ourselves to be, or to become rather, in the future.

When you’re lonely,

I’ll be lonely too.

And this is the fame.

love and art 12/18/1974

-Lady GaGa"

Should I believe her? She walks around with an air of royalty for sure. I thought I her worshipper. Perhaps she is right, she worships me. And in me lies her, and we together see out into the world and into ourselves. So little can be said about the raw emotions I do have, but I can always ramble on about how I used to feel. Why share those things that are not present? Those things are easier and less complicated. Filtered and diluted and concentrated to make a potent and coherent mixture anyone could stomach. Maybe I need not look to pasteurize my thoughts. Maybe it is right to explain the sickest, most complicated feelings of the present that make me feel godly and gritty. An aged thought goes down like velvet. The rough truth is like a sick feeling you get before a fever peaks. It is thoughtless and mindless and visceral and irrational and beautiful in a sick, unfocused way. She is not just a pop star. Not if she can see into my soul and be a revelation to my eyes. Those who see her for her know her. And those who do not, would never understand.