Thursday, April 25th, 2002 | 23:34
An essay on sine waves, of sorts

You are so gorgeous. I'd offer you a pound of flesh. He jabbered out sentences like pennies for the homeless. His knees bled like Jesus on a good day. He told people he made the sun go down. He told them he did it because he needed a challenge. He did it to please people. They made him average.
He had the power to make people's heads explode. Only he knew this. The masses went along with their business suits and power lunches, totally unaware that he held lives between his frail fingers. He would pretend he didn't care. He didn't understand why people did. He knew he did. He thought she didn't. He never wanted to ask. He made people's heads explode, but he never knew how she felt.
Sometimes, he made his own head explode.

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