I Invited Myself. Thought This

She's No Beauty, Mate

And Just As I Begin To Believe That All Is Well, There Is Some Subtle Change In The Light. The Room Takes Its True Shape. I Fight To Go Back To That Blissful Ignorance, But It Is Too Late. The Dull Pain Of Truth Weights My Soul, Pulling It Under. I Am Left Hopelessly Awake.

In School, They Would Tell You That Life Wouldn’t Come To You; You Had To Go Out And Make It Your Own. But When It Came To Love, The Message For Girls Seemed To Be This: Don’t. Don’t Go After What You Want. Wait. Wait To Be Chosen, As If Only In The Eye Of Another Could One Truly Find Value. The Message Was Confusing And Infuriating. It Was A Shell Game With No Actual Pea Under The Rapidly Moving Cups.

He Took Comfort In The Neon Signs, The Wild Strands Of Jazz Creeping Out Of Clubs Whenever Happy Swells Of People Pushed Through The Doors In Their Finery.

Oh, Hello," Dr. M Says, Shaking Balder's Hand. "wonderful Costume. I'm A Bit Of A Role Player Myself On The Weekends. Tell Me, Where Did You Get The Helmet?" It Was Forged In The North, Blessed By The Hands Of Odin, Given To Me By My Mother, Frigg," Balder Answers. Lovely. I Got Mine On The Internet.