Light as a feather

We've arrived.

And...there are lots of trees here.

Enough to feel...claustrophobic.

But they don't look threatening.

Not to me, at least.

The trees here...are softer, almost.

As if they protect what they hide.

No doubt there's treasure buried away somewhere in this great forest.

But I'm in no shape to go searching for it.

I've not wandered about the trees, no, I'm not ready for that yet.

But I've stared out at them through the windows.

At least, the ones that aren't broken.

It's cold here. They say it's always cold, and I don't know how they can stand it.

I have Frankenstein to keep me warm, though. A big ol' jungle cat for protection.

I used to be afraid of dying.

Now that I'm basically a corpse anyway, I...

The boils have appeared now.

Maybe that means it'll be over soon.

Maybe if I die, people will be able to stop fussing over me.

I've only been a burden. I'm no use.

I'm not brave, like Elaine.

I'm not willful, like Rachael.

I'm not even huggable anymore, like Frank here.

I haven't helped anyone.

Have I?

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.

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?

Being a Tale of Danger and Fear Involving the Evasion of a Very Slender Man

Herpin'

anna derpin'.

Balance.

You're on a camping trip.

You're all sitting around a campfire,

at midnight,

roasting s'mores

and telling ghost stories.

Then you step up,

and you volunteer to tell the tale

of Cap'n Gorehook,

the ghost pirate.

And it goes a little something like -

but then a terrible roar comes from the forest.

A sound like a cannon shot rips apart your ears.

Arrrrrr!

screams a gravelly voice.

Laaaaaand hoooooo!

screams a...

squeakier voice.

And then a squawking parrot

flies in and pecks at the others!

A big man with a matted beard and strange outfit

moving like a whisper,

so silent among the pine needles,

walks into your circle

and starts digging up the fire,

looking for something underground.

Eventually he finds a huge chest,

that he opens and inside

are coins.

The whole time,

your campfire mates are just watching,

giggling,

whispering,

but then the pirate screams at them,

and they all run -

but not you.

You walk up to the pirate

and high-five him.

You take one of the coins,

unwrap it

and pop it into your mouth -

delicious chocolate.

And you giggle

and he chuckles,

and all the others

are hiding under the beds

in the RV.

Schrödinger

 nononononono NO!

I'm sinking like a stone in the sea

I'm burning like a bridge for your body

Where strange things and shenanigans happen.

R.I.P.

to all who we have lost.

Balance.

You're at a magic show.

The magician is a new one,

but he looks like he'll put on a promising show.

You settle down in your seat,

quietly eating your cotton candy.

He gestures wildly.

He says some silly magic words

and waves his hat in the air,

and guess what shows up?

A huge elephant takes the stage,

and he's riding on top of it!

Applause fills the air.

Then,

he calls for a volunteer from the audience.

No one raises their hand.

Suddenly he lifts his arm

and points right at you.

You stand up quickly.

He hands you a huge basket.

You open it.

There's nothing inside.

He snaps his fingers,

claps three times,

waves his hands over the basket,

and says some more magic words.

Suddenly, it begins shuddering.

You hear something shrieking,

coming from inside it.

The man opens it again,

and out fly a dozen pure, snow-white doves.

They flutter around you,

and for a moment you look up into the air

waiting for them to fly away - 

but they don't.

They perch on your head, your arms,

anywhere they can reach.

They love you.

They know you're a kind person.

That you're a friend

to all.

Love you all, people.

but not myself

Today I don't feel like doing anything

I just wanna lay in my bed

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

A place where I talk about music and random life stuff. :D

Marching all around,

marching up and down.

Balance.

You're at opening night.

The opening number is ending.

Your heart is pounding.

You're about to go on stage

when you're hit

with a wave of fear.

You can't go on!

You'll embarrass yourself!

You'll damage your reputation!

You'll lose all your friends!

Oh, dear, oh, dear,

oh, dear.

What will you do?

But the song comes to an end.

You have two choices:

fight

or flight.

With the knowledge

that at least you'll have tried,

you go on.

You begin your solo.

You have shut your own ears,

hoping beyond hope

that you won't have to hear yourself.

That nobody else will.

But when you finish that first song,

when you open your eyes

and look out at the crowd,

they're not cringing

or booing.

They're applauding.

They're standing.

They're cheering.

And all you can think is,

How did I get here?

K.S.
nonononononono

If it fell over, would it make a sound?

And if it did, would it be the sound that you like? 

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

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?

This is who I am. This is what I've done. Now who wants to take on the champ?

Can't see me if I'm here!

But I'm still here!

Can't see me!

Never mind.

Balance.

You're auditioning for a Broadway play.

You're last in line,

after a long assortment

of famous singers

and gorgeous actors.

The readings are first.

There's the part of Amanda,

the overworked step-mom.

There's the part of Bruce,

the imprisoned stylist.

There's even the part of Corey,

a bird that makes friends with the cat trying to eat him.

Then, the singing.

They sing about how they love the theater,

they sing about how their lover deserted them.

They sing about how much worse their life is than anyone else's,

they sing about how much better it is.

A thousand songs,

all beautiful,

all wonderfully sung,

all meaningless.

Finally,

it's your turn.

You trudge up the stairs,

knowing you won't get a part,

hoping beyond hope that you will.

You whisper at first.

You begin to stutter,

you stop.

You think that if you say one more thing,

you'll ruin your chances

forever.

But then you close your eyes,

and you sing.

You sing,

you sing the most amazing song any of the people in that room

had ever heard.

You belt it out as if you couldn't hold it in anymore,

and even as you take a peek at your captive audience,

you grin,

because it's your song,

something you wrote,

something you composed.

When you finish,

some of the other actors

scoff.

They boo.

They ask you who you think you are

to come and upstage them like that.

You ignore them almost the whole way out the door,

when you turn,

you shout back,

I'm the champ.

The next day,

you get a call

from the casting director.

You got the lead.

-/|\-

No one can change your life except you

Don't ever let anyone step all over you

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