Because I Don't Know What He Does With His Half

Bala

Balan

Balance.

You get out of the theater early.

A spotlight burned out,

and it won't be repaired for at least a week.

You get home two hours before you normally do.

You knock on the door,

get buzzed in by the receptionist,

take the elevator up to your apartment.

It takes you a little while

to find the proper key.

You can hear people talking from inside.

You wonder if there's a party.

Could it be yours?

No, your birthday was two months ago.

Could it be his?

No, his birthday isn't for another two months.

You shove the key into the door

and drag yourself inside.

There he is, sitting on the couch,

kissing some girl you've never seen before.

It takes you mere seconds to understand the scene.

You drop your bags and run,

tears running down your face

nearly as fast

as you run from the wreckage of your heart.

You run and run and run and run

until you can't run anymore.

You run so long and so hard and so fast

that you get to the end of the Earth.

You stand there at the edge,

staring over the brink,

waiting at the place

where the sidewalk ends.

You trip,

you fall,

you tumble.

You wake up.

You look around.

Just a bad dream.

Just a bad nightmare.

Just a bad memory.

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

The past is filled with pain and suffering, but all is well if you have fun living.

One, two, three, four,

you won't hurt me anymore!

Balance.

You're at an amusement park.

Your friend's father died recently.

You,

and her,

and so many other friends

are there,

with you,

trying to cheer her up.

She isn't being very cooperative.

She's sniffling

and crying,

and moaning

and lying -

I feel great.

I'm okay.

I don't need anything.

But then,

then you see that one ride,

the huge,

twisting,

looping,

incredibly fast ride.

You know how to cheer up your friend.

You cover their eyes,

and lead them to the entrance of the ride.

You slowly guide them into a seat.

The ride starts.

You chug away,

slowly,

slowly.

You reach the top

of the highest peak

on the ride.

You take your hands

off her eyes.

She looks.

She sees.

She gasps.

The sheer height,

the warmth of the sun,

the rushing wind

makes her smile

like nothing before.

When the ride is over,

she looks into your eyes.

You know that she knows -

pain doesn't go away;

pain can't be eliminated;

pain can get worse;

but you can overcome it.

You know that she knows -

pain is just weakness leaving the body.

If you can overcome that

without losing your heart

you'll be invincible.

Schrödinger

yes? no? i'm not sure anymore

Well, you blame me, and I blame the viking

And I'm pretty sure that answer must not be to your liking

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

Qui tacet consentit

One two three four -

we will walk right through that door!

Five six seven eight -

who do we appreciate?

Balance.

Sierra is growing so fast.

He's much better now

than he was when I found him.

And he and Mab are so cute when they play.

I'm so glad I could help them.

Also,

at rehearsal today,

I saw a man in the audience.

I couldn't make out his face,

since he was sitting way in the back,

in the dark.

I don't think anyone else noticed him.

He didn't say anything,

he didn't wave when I did,

and by the time we were done and leaving,

he had gone.

The way he walked

seemed almost familiar.

Almost doglike.

But I only saw it for a moment,

as the tails of his coat

swished out the door.

I was so intrigued,

I checked the security footage.

He only showed up for a few seconds,

and seemed out of place.

In fact,

he seemed like he belonged in the play.

The way he moved,

it was almost as if

he wanted me to memorize what he looked like.

Well, I did.

A long tailcoat,

and pants so dark

you couldn't see the creases.

A dark bow-tie,

and a top hat,

with something tucked into the ribbon.

He even had a monocle

 and cane,

and a thick, gold pocket-watch and chain.

The strangest thing about him

was that he had a cigar in his mouth,

but not lit -

he was just chewing on it.

He was a bit heavy-looking,

but mostly very athletic-looking.

Then he tipped his hat to the camera,

and disappeared.

I asked some of the other cast members

if they knew anyone like that.

Something was bugging me.

I knew him.

The way he walked,

the way he moved,

even the way he stood.

The next time I see him,

I won't wait.

I'll rush after him.

I'll remember who he is.

Maybe

I'll even get an outfit like his.

It was simply fabulous.

I loved it.

Are they wondering what we might be?

Are they thinking of you or of me?

Seven for a secret, not to be told.

It used to be that left was left

but now blue is orange.

Balance.

The Fourth of July.

Fireworks sizzle and explode,

and the festivities are so full of energy

it's as if the world itself is smiling.

You are with your parents.

They seem very nervous.

You can't tell what's wrong.

It's as if they're hiding something,

but you couldn't think what or why.

You sleep on it,

you wake on it,

you can't get it out of your mind.

Then, they hit you with it:

a present.

Not a material thing -

a kitten.

A little cat, for you to love

and take care of

and to be your friend.

You shriek,

you scream,

you cry,

and you hug them to no end.

But even as you're brushing the kitten,

late at night,

in your bed,

you're worried.

You don't know -

should you tell them your secret

or not?

~Schrödinger

Life is a highway,

and I wanna ride it all night long

We're all trapped in a maze of relationships. Life goes on with or without you.

Nothing can EVER stop me,

not if I'm over here!

Balance.

You beg,

you plead,

you try,

but they still say no.

You whine,

you cry,

you scream,

but they still say no.

You don't understand.

You loved them.

You loved them to the ends of the Earth,

and yet they didn't love you.

It doesn't take long

before they're gone.

You're left all alone.

You spiral downwards.

You try everything to get them back,

and when nothing works,

you try everything to forget them.

You binge,

you splurge,

you go on vacation,

you get three other jobs,

but nothing gets them out of your head.

Nothing.

One day, you get a call.

You can't tell who it's from,

you can't tell why anyone would be calling you,

but it asks you to be somewhere,

to meet someone,

so you go

because you have nothing better to do.

You get there,

and there is your friend,

your long-time friend,

waiting for you

with flowers and ice cream and all your favorite things.

You squeal, you grin,

you tackle them in a hug.

They know just how to make you feel better.

And when all is said and done,

you realize you couldn't have loved them.

You couldn't have loved them,

because they never loved you.

You couldn't have loved them,

because when you give love,

you get love.

If they didn't give

how could you?

♪

I don't mind - I don't care

As long as you're here

I find myself about to peer into an abyss... Will it stare back when I examine it?

Can they see me over here?

They can if I go

back over here!

Balance.

You're in a hospital.

Your grandmother is dying.

She has cancer or heart disease or some other horrible thing -

but you're young. All you know is she's dying.

You stay by her side,

day and night,

rain and shine,

hunger and sleep.

You never leave,

always hoping,

always praying,

that she'll get better.

The doctors tell you that you have to leave.

Your parents tell you that you have to move on.

Your teachers tell you that you have to come back to school.

With a great deal of crying,

you go,

knowing she has no chance,

hating yourself for not being there.

After watching her suffer for so long,

you suffer.

It's almost as if you had traded places.

Now you feel as bad as she does,

you're in as much pain,

you feel as helpless as she must.

Weeks pass.

Weeks turn into months.

Maybe months even turn into years.

Then, one day,

when you're least expecting it,

you get the news:

she's made a full recovery.

Signing off. (Comfort)

Trading in who I've been for shiny celebrity skin

I like to push it and push it until my luck is over

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

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

Multum in parvo

One...

Two...

Twenty...

Ready or not, here I come!

Balance.

Yesterday,

late last night,

I went back to the park.

I left Sierra and Mab at home,

sure they could take care of themselves for a little while.

When I got there,

it was totally empty.

Nobody else was there.

The clouds above me started to draw together,

started to rumble and darken.

It began drizzling,

so I laughed and danced in the rain and the darkness,

the only light coming from the moon and stars

and the lamps.

I've heard a lot about the rain.

It's a sign from God,

or a warning of things to come.

It's an omen of death,

or a blessing of harmony.

Or,

it's just rain.

As I danced and laughed,

I got a feeling

that someone

or something

was watching me.

I stopped for a moment,

I turned in a full circle,

I looked for someone else.

I couldn't see anything

until I looked at the trees.

There he was,

but not screaming

or hiding

or even moving;

he was just standing there,

looking sad.

His head was down,

the rain was falling on him,

as if attracted by some magnetic force,

though it seemed to pass right through him,

or become a part of him.

He looked so sad.

I didn't have a thought in my head

but to cheer him up, somehow,

though I knew I should stay back -

I sat in the grass, and watched.

He didn't look evil

or monstrous.

He just looked sad.

He wasn't huge

or flailing,

just sad.

It hadn't been ten minutes of us looking at each other,

when he disappeared.

I went home,

thinking.

What does he feel?

When he's left out in the rain?

Without even the shelter of the trees to provide for him an umbrella?

Doesn't matter where the bus is headed
I just gotta go

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