Lies and Vaudeville, finding their way home.

Well, it's a good thing that that's worked out, then. As much as I don't like revenge - it's a messy thing - there has to be an equivalent exchange. I try not to think about it too much, or else I'll have to think about something else to balance it out, when I would much rather be talking with The Lord or finding out why rain is wet - or if it is wet at all - or if it's raining in the first place.

Tea-time's at four, anyway, every afternoon, and you're all invited; do stop by some time. We'd love to have you, or at least I would; but I rather think The Lord would love to have you, too.

And so on, and so on...

if i may

i would like to take a leaf from a friend's book

ahem



oh well in five years' time

we could be walking 'round a zoo

with the sun shining down over me and you

and there'll be love in the bodies of the elephants too

and i'll put my

hands over your eyes

but you'll peek through

and there'll be

sun, sun, sun

all over our bodies

and sun, sun, sun

all down our necks

and there'll be sun, sun, sun

all over our faces

and sun, sun, sun 

so what the heck?

'cause i'll be laughing at all your

silly little jokes

and we'll be laughing about how we

used to smoke

all those stupid little cigarettes

and drink stupid wine

'cause it's what

we needed

to have a good time

but it was

fun, fun, fun

when we were drinking it was

fun, fun, fun

when we were drunk and it was

fun, fun, fun

when we were laughing it was fun, fun, fun

oh it was fun

oh well i'll look at you and say it's the happiest that i've ever been

i'll say

i no longer feel i have to be James Dean

and she'll say

yeah well i feel

oh pretty happy too

and i'm always pretty happy when i'm just kickin' back with you

and it'd be

love, love, love

all through our bodies

and love, love, love

all through our minds

and it'd be love, love, love

all over her face

and love, love, love

all over mine

and though admittedly all these moments

are just in my head

i'll be thinking about them as i'm

lying in bed

and i know that admittedly

it might not even come true

but in my mind i'm having a pretty good
time with you oh

in five years' time

i might not know you

in five years' time

we might not speak oh

in five years' time

we might not get along

in five years' time

you might just prove

me

wrong

oh there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be love, love, love

wherever you go

there'll be l♥ve















































i still feel like, uh


well, like shit




but i feel better?


and i'm sorry for -

you know.

i'm sorry

to you, Corey, to Sonia

to you, Elaine,

to you, Sir Thighpiece,

and you, Hakurei,

and you, Nick,

and you, Morningstar,

and Killjay,

and John











and to you, Maurice











and everyone else

all the names i can't say

all the names i don't know





i'm sorry




i'd Run if i thought i could




i'm not in any condition to do so







though if you want to come and pick me up







i'd be happy to get as far away from cheshire as possible





they're releasing me from the hospital in nine hours








they don't know i'm on the computer


they wouldn't want me to be





Corey brought me a laptop to use, courtesy of Sonia


















whatever you think

of me

of anyone



whatever you know

whatever you see






just remember


i'm here




i'm smiling




i'm happy






and i love you

all of you


and that love is deep-seated enough that i can





that i can promise


i won't go down while i have that love





i can promise i won't go down without a fight

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.

Balance.

You're being interviewed for a job.

You're not in it for the money,

but for the experience.

The interviewer is a short man with a bushy beard

and a dimpled smile.

He looks like he'd be a nice guy to work with.

While you're waiting,

a man dressed in rags and Mardi Gras beads

enters the room.

He's muttering to himself.

Something about aliens or demons or -

or something.

He gets called in first,

since they're going by alphabetical order.

He's only in there for about ten minutes,

and then you get called in.

Over the course of an hour,

you feel like you've impressed the interviewer

with your extensive resume

and interesting personal skills.

Your great shining smile seems like it encourages him,

and he smiles back.

You really feel like you've got this interview down pat.

When all's said and done, you leave the building,

thinking you'll get the job.

After all, there are only a few applicants,

and you're pretty confident in yourself.

Eventually you receive a letter in the mail with the news.

No, you didn't get the job.

Guess who did?

It's simple. You need something delivered, but are being stalked by... You-Know-Who. We are good at Running and like money. Elementary, my dear Watson~!

Teehee!

Teeho!

Balance.

 You're at the post office,

on Valentine's Day.

There's a young man

sitting on a bench,

just outside.

You sit next to him.

Beautiful day, huh?

you say.

No response.

You have a Valentine?

you ask.

Did,

he says.

He coughs. A tear runs down his cheek.

Left a week ago.

You smile.

You take his hand and smile for all you're worth.

You miss her, huh?

 you say.

No. Him.

You're taken aback,

but only for a moment.

You smile all the more.

You pat him on the back

and give him a short,

tight hug.

You wait,

patiently.

Eventually he smiles.

You've cheered him up.

Thank you,

he says.

You hand him the box of chocolates

that you had just gotten in the mail.

You don't need to be a mind-reader to see

he needs it more than you.

Schrödinger

i can't remember

And if I were a tree growing tall and green

All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves

play the part be the part play the part be the partplay the part be the part play the part be the partplay the part be the part play the part be the part

Flawk-sin...

flocksy...

How do you say that?

Balance.

Your first production.

You're a minor character,

almost an extra.

The director is a naturally angry man.

He won't stop yelling at you.

He won't stop harassing you.

You can't take it.

You crack.

You yell back at him.

He fires you, sure,

but you stood up for yourself.

You walk out with your head held high and your back straight.

You walk out yourself.

You walk out

proud.

Schrödinger

tall and proud, tall and proud

That was quite a show, very entertaining

But it's over now

Helping you help yourself

Let those who worship evil's might

beware my love -

my glorious light!

Balance.

You're walking down a street,

on a hot summer's day.

Joggers run by.

Cyclists race their triathlons.

And you

are taking in the sun.

But then

you hear a scream.

A man's scream,

gurgling and horrible.

It's coming from that alleyway.

You rush in.

A police officer is on the ground,

and an angry-looking man

is standing over him 

with a knife.

The man runs away before you can get to him,

but you make it to the dying officer.

You whip out your phone and dial 911.

You grasp his hand,

telling him it'll be alright.

You can't know,

of course,

but you can hope,

and you can pray,

and you can believe.

The ambulance arrives.

They pick him up.

They take him to the hospital.

It takes weeks

but eventually you get a call.

Asking you out to dinner.

Someone wants to repay a debt.

You go.

There,

waiting,

is the police officer.

He looks great.

Full of life.

And smiling.

That's the true reward,

his smile.

Schrödinger

i'm so confused

I was gonna be rich, no matter how much it cost

And I was gonna win no matter how much I'd lost

Sursum corda et surgam

Watching,

waiting,

wondering.

Balance.

I see him there.

He follows me.

Cheshire will not go away.

He knows I'm afraid.

He knows I don't want him to hurt me.

But what he doesn't know

is that I have the power

to overcome fear.

I know he's going to try again tomorrow,

or maybe even later today.

But this time,

I'm ready.

He won't hurt me.

I have Sierra.

I have Mab.

I have you.

And as much as I'd hate to hurt him,

I also have a can of pepper spray

and a taser.

Hopefully,

it won't come to that.

I don't believe in such things as lost causes.

They may exist,

but I don't believe in them.

I have a story.

One day,

a reporter is visiting Albert Einstein's home.

She notices that,

over the doorway,

there is an upturned horseshoe.

But surely you don't believe in luck, do you?

she asks.

Of course not,

scoffs Einstein.

Then why do you have a horseshoe on your doorway?

presses the reporter.

Because it works whether you believe it or not,

he says.

You may not believe

that there is good in everyone.

Cheshire may not believe

that he can lose.

He may not believe

that with my friends

I can beat him.

He may not believe

that I can draw a circle

and take him in.

But that doesn't matter.

Because I can.

Stamp on the ground, jump, jump, jump, jump

Move it all around, jumpin' all around

Rome's ashes mix with those unwilling to fight back.

Teetering,

tottering,

and...

Balance.

You're in the park.

To your right,

hundreds upon thousands of trees.

To your left,

hundreds upon thousands of people.

But there is one person,

a tattered,

worn-out,

poor man laying on a bench.

You walk up to him.

He waves you away,

but you won't go.

Why are you lying on that bench?

you ask.

Got nothing better to do,

 he says.

You try to pull him onto his feet,

but he struggles and wrenches free.

He doesn't want to live a happy life.

He just wants to be left alone,

on his bench,

to die.

But you won't have that.

Eventually,

you get him up.

You show him the beauty of the park.

You remind him of the glory of life.

You finally manage

to bring a smile to his face.

He spits it all out.

He tells you his story.

He confesses to all his sins.

He takes credit for all his triumphs.

He smiles.

He laughs.

He thanks you.

And he goes off into the day,

happy,

with the will to live again.

//SCHRÖDINGER 

i think

Look into my eyes, and it's easy to see
One and one make two, two and one make three

I just deliver the news

Can't see me!

Ooh, look at this!

How strange.

Balance.

You're walking down the street.

It's cold and foggy outside.

Eventually,

you happen upon an old,

dilapidated,

crumbling library.

It's barely a library anymore.

It's just a shadowed, empty stone box.

You duck in for a moment,

to get out of the cold

and catch your breath.

You hear someone

call out,

Who's there?

You turn and look.

It's a young boy,

coming in behind you.

He's wearing rags

and pushing a cart,

half-full of newspapers.

Why are you here?

you ask.

He tells you.

He lives in that broken-down library.

You're shocked.

You take him home with you.

You take care of him.

He grows stronger.

One day,

a couple shows up at your door.

They look very well-to-do,

but are sad,

distraught.

They ask if you've seen their son.

The boy comes forward.

They see him,

and they nearly tackle him

out of joy.

They take him home,

and you live happily,

knowing you've reunited a family.

-Don't Shoot the Cat-

Kisses like cocaine, hits me like a freight train
I can't tell her no

Explanation

His name was Lewis Jacobs Lyman.

He loved nothing more than Alice in Wonderland,

The Wizard of Oz,

The Chronicles of Narnia,

and The Lion King.

One year ago,

we met at an audition for a play.

He was funny,

cute,

and he really made me feel balanced.

It didn't take long for that to go away.

Three months after we had met,

he left.

He told me it was over,

and disappeared.

My strongest memory of him

from those days

is the smile he always wore.

The smile he would flash at passerby on the street,

the smile that immediately brightens your day.

The smile that

that haunts me in my dreams, now.

In my nightmares.

It was hard for a while,

living without him.

But I managed.

I had friends to help me through it.

He showed up at my flat the day after I saw him again.

He was prepared. He was alone,

but prepared.

I was unconscious before I realized it was the same man I had seen in the theater.

In his cruelty,

he was almost kind,

tender,

loving.

Then he gave me the notebook

the

I still have it.

I don't want it,

but I'm going to keep it.

In case I may need it again.

Then he gave me the notebook.

He told me to write in it.

I didn't want to.

So he took my finger.

And I wrote for all I was worth.

And then

The days after are a blur until today, I

I woke up in the small place Sir Thighpiece had rented.

He was sitting there, by the small cot,

looking as if he hadn't slept in days.

(From what he says, he hasn't slept in a long time.)

His dog, too,

Rocinante,

she's ever so sweet.

And she gets along wonderfully with Sierra and Mab.

Speaking of whom,

they are both fine.

A neighbor watched over them while I was

while I was

away.

I'm

I'm okay.

I'm getting better.

I'll be on my feet tomorrow, and then

then I'll be ready to smile again.

I hope.

He told me one last thing, before Sir Thighpiece showed up

He reminded me

He reminded me of the cat

Curiosity killed the cat

Satisfaction brought it back

He warned me

"Eight left,"

he said

but I'll make it through.

I have Sierra.

I have Mab.

I have my friends.

I have you,

whoever you are, reading.
This is me:
Kathleen Schrödinger.
That is me.
That's me.
no it's not
is it?

I'm a thousand miles away, but girl,

Tonight you look so pretty, yes, you do

I shouldn't be typing.

And it's a bit hard with one less finger.

But I just wanted to let you know I'm alright.

Thanks to Sir Thighpiece.

Later I'll...I'll explain what I can.

Well. I'll go...

I'll go rest now.

Balance.

When I get older, I will be stronger

They'll call me freedom, just like a waving flag

I'm outside your window looking in at the pretty light in your eyes.

Can't see me.

Can't catch me.

Can't get me.

Can't hurt me.

Balance.

It's a cold,

snowy winter night.

You're sitting inside your house,

sipping hot chocolate,

eating marshmallows,

smiling and having fun by the fire.

You giggle and grin

you shuffle and snicker.

You're having a great time.

Then, you hear a scratching noise at the window.

Something's there.

For a moment, you're afraid

but then you get up and walk towards the window.

There, staring in at you,

is a half-frozen kitten.

You can't help but clutch your heart

and stifle your tears.

You hurriedly open the window and pull in the kitten.

You feed it and wash it and heal it and warm it.

Most of all, you love it.

After some time, you realize

that this is the neighbor's cat,

the neighbor who treated it so badly.

You decide not to send it back home,

but you know you can't keep it.

You take the kitten to a friend,

a good friend,

someone you know will love it as much as you did.

And when it's all grown up,

the cat recognizes you.

It knows you saved it,

and it thanks you,

silently,

and you smile and cuddle it.

You're still sad you couldn't keep it,

but you're glad that it grew up

healthy and happy.

Forever will come someday.

On the empty streets of this nowhere town

The melting shadows fade

"Forget the reasons why it won't work, and believe the one reason why it will"

Seven

eight

nine

and...

Balance.

It's the science fair,

and you've done an experiment

to see if leaves

can be used as a source of power.

Your teacher cheers you on

with the quietest of cheers.

Your friends laugh and make fun,

your parents wonder if you're crazy.

You persist.

You get all the leaves you can get,

all kinds,

all sizes and shapes,

all colors and weights.

Nobody thinks it's going to work

nobody but you.

The day of the fair approaches.

You set up your display

and await the judges.

As soon as they come,

you flip the switch

and the bulb turns on.

A gasp -

a faint -

a scream -

a shock -

first prize!

You're so glad

that you did it

that you don't even realize

someone hid a battery

under the leaves.

Stay safe, everyone.

Said bye, bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

A lonely little man in a big, big world.

Look over here!

Can't catch me!

I'm too fast!

Balance.

You're back on the playground,

weeks or months before,

and that bully still has an iron grip on the land.

You fly down the orange plastic,

and when you reach the bottom

they're waiting there for you.

You cower,

you look around for someone to help,

anyone,

but nobody is there.

You are all alone.

Nobody is even watching in fear.

You whimper

or cry

or scream;

they laugh.

They hit you,

and you know you should be going away

but you're frozen in place.

They hit you again

and again

and again.

You can't do anything

but try to block out the pain.

Eventually, something stops hurting so badly,

it becomes a dull ache.

The bully is gone

and you are curled up on the ground.

You sit up,

you wipe your eyes,

you leave the playground,

you go inside.

You were alone

but you're all the better for it.

You're stronger now

and you can handle yourself a bit better now.

You hurt, yes,

but even the worst pain

doesn't last forever.

§

So if you're too school for cool

And you're treated like a fool

You may be acquainted with the night, but I have seen the darkness in day.

All around the mulberry bush,

the kitten chased the kitten.

Balance.

You're playing in your back yard,

as a young child,

and the night is slowly approaching.

Maybe you wish on a star,

or catch a firefly.

You play so much,

you dance so long and laugh so hard and sing so loud

that you don't even notice

when the sun rises.

That gorgeous light hits your face,

and you smile.

Suddenly, an acrid smell reaches you.

You turn, and with horror, you realize

your home is burning.

That beautiful house

that you've lived in all your life,

as long as you can remember,

your whole history,

gone.

Someone hugs you,

and you turn again.

Your parents are there,

your family and friends.

You hold them, too,

and you know,

no matter what,

whether playing in the night,

or watching the smoke cover up the sun,

even when the darkness in day threatens to grab you,

you know

that the darkness couldn't be there without the light;

you know

everything will be okay.

Schrödinger out.

We get up early just to start cranking the generator

Our limbs have been asleep, we need to get the blood back in 'em

You know that you have seen this all before; this yellow brick road and its apple trees.

If I only

had a home.

Balance.

You're in the city,

the big city,

maybe New York or Los Angeles

or Chicago or Denver.

You've just gotten out of a cab,

at the hotel you're staying at.

For a moment,

you stand outside the doors,

waiting and watching

all the others hail their own taxis,

celebrities and soldiers,

politicians and just people

all walking around in this city.

No matter where you are,

the view is the same.

These sad, sad people

going about their daily lives,

never realizing how dead they are on the inside.

You decide to take action.

You run back and forth along the sidewalk,

you dance and leap and shout and sing.

Maybe someone joins you,

someone who sees what you see and wants to make these people happy again.

By the next chime of the hour, you've got an army

of these runners and dancers and leapers and shouters and singers,

these lovers and fighters and players and winners and losers,

these people,

these random people

making everyone else smile.

The people watching,

some of them, they say they've never seen anything like this before,

some of them are wondering what twister made you knock your head,

but all of them

are thinking

"I want to see this again."

Hello.

But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line

Everything is as it should be.

Left,

left,

left

right

left!

Balance.

Your friend is still a little worried.

So you comfort them.

You regale them with tales of adventure and love.

You hug them or hold them,

or kiss them or smile,

you promise that you'll never let the darkness get them.

Finally, they're fine,

you both know what the sound is,

you both know what the darkness is,

and you both know how to find the light in it.

You both know

that everything is as it should be.

--Schrödinger

I know you want pop

You want dance, you want rock and roll

I'm a blank canvas, a person remade. I'm a circle that has no beginning nor end. I'm fear and anger and elation and hope all at once. I'm a person with no purpose other than searching.

One,

two,

three,

Four!

Balance.

It was that time with your best friend,

when you had a horrible fight and you thought you would never make up.

For a while, you cried, or acted tough, or even ignored them.

Eventually, someone else noticed how strange you were acting.

Perhaps it was another friend,

or a brother or sister,

or a parent or even just a stranger who saw you being sad.

They asked you what was wrong, what was so wrong,

and you pushed them away,

because no one deserves to know about your life,

no one deserves to intrude on that sacred friendship,

the sacred friendship - that was no longer.

Maybe it only took a moment,

maybe days,

maybe weeks or months or years,

but eventually you gave in to yourself,

something you had been afraid of.

You were angry at this person for intruding,

but elated that they did.

You were suddenly blessed with a hope that maybe,

just maybe,

you could save this friendship.

You poured out your heart to this person,

you told it all, you explained everything,

how you felt, how you still feel,

you told them exactly what happened,

because if even one detail was wrong

it might never get fixed.

Once you were finished,

you knew what to do.

You had to wipe the slate clean.

You went back to your friend,

and one glance,

one look told both of you that it was alright now.

You both knew there was a new canvas to be painted,

a blank starting place,

you both knew you were now people remade -

but not really, were you?

You had gone in a circle,

from friends to enemies and friends again.

You realized that this whole fiasco had no start or ending,

it was just a circle.

The next time you had a fight

with anyone,

you went searching for that person

who had helped you so much.

This person might have shown up again,

or might not,

but their one lesson always remained with you,

that no matter what or why or when or where or how you are,

you're also just you.

Talk to me!

Let's pretend we don't exist;

Let's pretend we're in Antarctica!