I kind of liked Alice. In Wonderland. Betty Blue. She was never who she thought she was, whenever she thinks. Her real name was pretty unremarkable, and she's all you heard some nights, walking the main hall to and fro. A very lanky, awkward girl in more than one respect. Her footsteps synchronized with the tune of her humming, a tendriled shadow fading in and out with the beat. The same sad song, a boy and a guitar. Not that I knew what the lyrics were. The orderlies eventually stopped her, gave her assuring whispers, before she put herself to bed. Don't think she slept though. I wouldn't either if I had such questionable taste in bedtime music.

Does that mean you play the Moody Blues or Eric Satie before sleeping?

Merzbow

You anti-hipster audiophile. Please educate us with your anti-hipster wisdom...

I still think about [name redacted]. Three, four years, longer if you ignore the caffeine. The one and only, woman to capture my heart, open its eyes to the life I'm still so afraid to let go. She taught me how to love. Well, my image of her. I was wrong, I'll say that now, and again, and forever. The songs I'd listened to a hundred thousand times, sounded tens of hundred of thousands of times better. The lyrics carried more weight, the emotions actually began to mean something, for once. When she.. walked into the room, the world slowed just enough for it all to make sense.

But she chose him. She, preferred him. Not even a boy, let alone a man. No personality, he considered women "things", ignored her when other product was around. Didn't even look at her face when he spoke to her. In a single glance, I'd lose myself in her blue eyes for days at a time. What else is there worth wasting such a valuable commodity on? Cities could burn, top-hatted ghosts rise from the sewer grates. I'd be alright if I could be near [name redacted]. I won't say I'm good man, but I'm sure I wasn't worse than him.

I told her, I had to, I'm not fond of war games of the heart. She was... disgusted. Utterly perturbed. The idea that someone as unattractive, unappealing, short, and unworthy of her blonde locks as I could think, that she would be the sort of person to reciprocate any feelings of warmth. As the last weeks passed, she snuggled up to "him" even more so in my presence. The only woman I have ever cared for wanted me to suffer. This and the pain that ensued are all I know some nights.

And this is why, I, Kiro Delta Sigma Sia XIII, now weigh 400lbs and live in an Astrovan. The boxed cat food helps numb the hurt.