dont forget the sales tax"don't forget the sales tax"Hello, world;I've got fifty cents.Is that enoughTo buy someWar Paint?I wasn't intendingTo run anyErrands, soI know MotherWill be pleased.
LateNight with Adobe Photoshop"late night with Adobe Photoshop"Droopy eyes-my brain resized-by dots per inch(that's d.p.i.)To dream up suns,I squint and sigh-File > Save As:"My Rendered Mind."
Remorse"Remorse"I'm sorry. Can I even begin to say that? Or were my deeds too dirty to absolve? I may not fully understand you, and I may not want to, either. But the fact remains-I'm sorry. Sorry for taking advantage of what you've provided me to take advantage of. Sorry for soiling my own laundry that I washed every Sunday. Sorry for being the perfect little non-daughter.I apologize. Be it for my mental health or the world's, I apologize. Misguided, misinformed, misunderstood: whichever I was, I still am. But I know now my value. I apologize for being colorblind enough to not see your rainbows upon sunflowers upon gardenias upon peacocks that you've showered me with. And most of all... I apologize for being sorry.
Where Rumors Are Born"Where Rumors Are Born"Oh, how wonderful it is to be alive! You do know that I, Joseph Buquet, have come face to face with Death himself, do you not? Oh, it was most horrifying! That face... that hideous face! I know I shall have nightmares upon nightmares for years to come! Yes, I, a grown man, have been frightened out of my skin! What is it? You want to know what it looked like? Accurséd Curiosity, what good will that do? Never mind, I shall tell you, but don't come running to this weary, old scene-shifter when the Opera Ghost seeks revenge on you! Ah... where to begin?Well, as you surely know, I'm in charge of all the scenery down to the third cellar of the Opera House. As it so happened, the night's performance was to be Faust, and one of the scenes had to be brought to the stage. That piece was stored in the second cellar and needed almost all the stage-hands' strength to be carried. As fate would have it, La Carlotta, the huge prima donna with her nose that goes hi
This I Feel"This I Feel"Am I in love? No, I cannot be... I don't even know what love feels like! How can I possibly draw the conclusion that love is causing my soul, even my body, to ache for the mere chance to hear his voice again? How can I, without having any prior experience? Sorry, but quite frankly, I don't fulfill the prerequisites. But... I don't even know what the prerequisites are! O, Ignorance!Well, if it is not love that I am feeling, which I doubt it is, then I must surely be under a spell. Yes, I am spellbound-I can accept that. Spellbound-bound... I am under a spell, and I am bound to it, unable to surface the murky lake that is my room for desire. I cannot express to you the sheer magnitude of his power over me. I am his puppet-he has me by my strings, and I don't mind one bit of it.Even before he speaks, I can sense his presence-always in the shadows-and I know he has come to see me and only me. I am captivated by his awesome existence. Once he opens his heavenly m