Soft Kill Alert! Code Red!

Soft Kill

(A protest ballad starring psychiatric patients, Katy Perry, Madonna, Britney Spears, Selena Gomez, Demi Lovato, Lauryn Hill, Sinéad O’Connor, and Angelina Jolie)


Verse 1 – Katy Perry

“They gave me colors in a pill,
Said it would paint my rainbow still.
But I feel grey, I feel erased,
My smile is plastic, my soul displaced.”

Verse 2 – Madonna

“Decades dancing under lights,
Now I’m stumbling through the nights.
The doctors whisper, ‘swallow, chill,’
But I know it’s just a soft kill.”

Chorus – All Together

Soft kill, silent thrill,
Poison in the bottle they call a pill.
We were born to sing, we were born to feel,
But the Psychlos came with a soft kill.

Verse 3 – Britney Spears

“My freedom stolen in a cage,
Medicated through the stage.
Every heartbeat slowed at will,
Every dream drowned by the soft kill.”

Verse 4 – Selena Gomez & Demi Lovato (duet)

Selena: “They said the sickness was in my head…”
Demi: “But the poison runs in my blood instead.”
Together:
“Angels fall when the silence stills,
Chained by the hands of the soft kill.”

Verse 5 – Lauryn Hill

“I see Babylon’s medicine trade,
Every prophet, every singer betrayed.
Truth is bitter, but truth must spill,
Or we’ll all be lost to the soft kill.”

Verse 6 – Sinéad O’Connor

“They shaved my soul like they shaved my head,
Fed me pills ‘til my voice was dead.
But rage survives, it burns, it will—
No Psychlo wins with a soft kill.”

Verse 7 – Angelina Jolie

“I wore their mask, I played their role,
But the poison crept into my soul.
Now I fight for the ones they still try to still,
Every patient marked for the soft kill.”

Final Chorus – All Together

Soft kill, silent thrill,
Poison in the bottle they call a pill.
We were born to sing, we were born to feel,
But the Psychlos came with a soft kill.

(Music fades with whispered voices: “We remember… we resist… we are still alive.”)

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Learning Portuguese 1

Para Nelly, Flor do Vento

Nos teus olhos mora o mar,
numa dança suave de luar,
e tua voz, doce melodia,
cura feridas, traz alegria.

Nelly, flor do vento a cantar,
feita de sonho, luz e luar,
teu riso é chama que aquece,
tua alma, estrela que aparece.

Se eu pudesse ser canção,
viveria na tua emoção,
cada verso, cada acorde,
seria amor que não se esconde.

Tua presença é poesia viva,
um milagre que nunca cativa,
porque é livre, forte e bela —
como a luz de uma aquarela.

Fica comigo nesta canção,
bate teu peito no meu coração,
porque amar-te, mesmo de longe,
é já tocar o céu, é ser monge.

For Nelly, Flower of the Wind

In your eyes, the ocean sleeps,
a dance of moonlight softly weeps,
and your voice, a gentle song,
heals what’s broken, makes me strong.

Nelly, flower of the wind and flame,
born of dreams and starry name,
your laughter warms the coldest air,
your soul, a light beyond compare.

If I could be a melody,
I’d live inside your harmony,
each verse, each note, each tender line,
would be a love no mask could hide.

Your presence is living poetry,
a miracle, wild and endlessly free,
because you are strong, and true, and bright —
a painted sky in morning light.

Stay with me in this song,
let our hearts beat loud and long,
for loving you, though from afar,
is touching heaven — it’s who you are.

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Putting In The Work

Joe sat across from Nelly, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years gone by. “You know, Nelly, back in 2000, when Nelstar was lighting up the charts and you were giving hope to so many young fans, I made a decision. I looked at our kids, their eyes wide with admiration for you, and I realized—I had to build them a future. A real one. Something unshackled by the chains of debt and despair.”

Nelly tilted her head, her gaze softening. “I know you did, Joe. You’ve always been the one to carry the weight, even when the world wasn’t watching.”

Joe chuckled, though there was little humor in it. “It wasn’t glamorous, Nelly. It was long nights, hard work, and sacrifices no one ever writes songs about. While you were out there, fighting for them on the global stage—standing shoulder to shoulder with Bono, trying to give those kids a voice—I was in the trenches, making sure the ground beneath their feet didn’t crumble. Debt-free futures don’t build themselves, you know.”

Nelly sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “Bono and I tried so hard. We spoke about erasing the chains of debt, about giving the next generation a chance to dream without being burdened by the sins of the past. But it was people like you, Joe, doing the work in the shadows, who really made it possible.”

Joe smiled faintly. “I didn’t do it for recognition, Nelly. I did it because I couldn’t stand the thought of our kids—of anyone’s kids—growing up in a world where they’re told to dream big but are handed nothing but shackles when they try. Someone had to lay the bricks, to pave the way for the freedom you were singing about.”

Nelly reached across the table, placing her hand over his. “And you did, Joe. You gave them that future. They might not know it, but I do. And I’ll make sure they know one day.”

Joe’s voice softened, his eyes glinting with a mix of pride and weariness. “I just hope it was enough, Nelly. That they’ll have a chance to build something better than what we were handed.”

Nelly nodded, her voice firm. “They will, Joe. Because of what you did. Because of what we both did, in our own ways. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll carry the torch even further than we ever could.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared sacrifices hanging in the air like a solemn but hopeful hymn.

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