The Balcony on the First Floor
You’re in love with a Hollywood chick. She takes off her glasses and the whole world shifts into focus, every colour is 20% more vibrant. You get both of you drunk, you hold a speech for her, about how unworthy you are of her; she pushes you off the balcony into the pool. She gets a mohawk, does it up all green and purple. She tells you to go fuck yourself; she gets a restraining order. Is this how it’s supposed to happen? You watch the movies again, to figure out where this all went off-script. You don’t get it.