All Of Japan Once A Year Will Get Up On Their Rooftops, Because That's The Night That The Shepherd Boy From One Side Of The Milky Way Gets To Meet The Weaver Girl On The Other Side Of The Milky Way. They All Get Up On Their Roofs And Watch That Night. So They Long For 365 Days And Then On The 365th Night, They See The Result Of That Longing.
The Inner Boy In A Messed-up Family May Keep On Being Shamed, Invaded, Disappointed, And Paralyzed For Years And Years. "i Am A Victim," He Says, Over And Over; And He Is. But That Very Identification With Victimhood Keeps The Soul House Open And Available For Still More Invasions. Most American Men Today Do Not Have Enough Awakened Or Living Warriors Inside To Defend Their Soul Houses. And Most People, Men Or Women, Do Not Know What Genuine Outward Or Inward Warriors Would Look Like, Or Feel Like.
I Was Never A Girl That Dreamt Of Being A Princess And I Never Dreamt About My Wedding Day. I Hated Pink And I Hated Fairies. I Only Liked Hanging Out With Boys. I Remember Throwing A Tantrum If My Mum Put Me In Pink. I Wasn't A Particularly Girly Girl.
It's Not So Much That I Like Him As A Person God, But As A Boy He's Very Handsome.
Vig Used To Call Me 'elf Boy', And I'd Call Him 'filthy Human'. As An Elf, I Never Got A Scratch On Me, Never Got Dirty. And Vig Would Come Out With Blood And Sweat All Over Him. And He'd Say To Me, 'oh, Go Manicure Your Nails.'
Beauty Loved Him More Than Anything, Her Beast Boy, But, Secretly, Sometimes, She Wished He Would Have Remained A Beast.
You Were Just A Boy On A Bed In A Room, Like A Kaleidoscope Is A Tube Full Of Bits Of Broken Glass. But The Way I Saw You Was Pieces Refracting The Light, Shifting Into An Infinite Universe Of Flowers And Rainbows And Insects And Planets, Magical Dividing Cells, Pictures No One Else Knew.
Despite My Ghoulish Reputation, I Really Have The Heart Of A Small Boy. I Keep It In A Jar On My Desk.
For Some Unknown Reason, Bad-boys Draw You In Despite The Fact That They Are Jerks.
Such, Such Were The Joys When We All, Girls And Boys, In Our Youth Time Were Seen On The Echoing Green.
Why A Tender Curb Upon The Youthful Burning Boy? Why A Little Curtain Of Flesh On The Bed Of Our Desire?
