That is about how empty and meaningless the whole thing is: a constellation of hyenas that ends in an unpleasant kiss.
The hard on feeling of the illusion of fame – that feeds on the separated lover’s feelings – and aims at the meaningless, splitsful (in worst case: spiteful), and empty pain.
Satan is whispering in her ear – flattery – she really doesn’t want to hear. She’s screwed up into the illusion of fame – when suddenly the gangs’ get tired of her – and fired up more by someone else. She becomes a rootless product, afraid of blame, in the future projecting all criticism against herself, with horrible projections – a cold wind through her heart – neither able to bear the shame, the feeling of shit running down her thighs – something dirty in the buttockskin, a delusion that ends in sin.
The saving point: just throw yourself into nihil – the abyss – just throw yourself in.