you are not in Wonderland.
the strange madness
long growing in your soul,
in your isolation
but you are fortunate in your ignorance.
You who have suffered
find where love hides,
give, share, lose,
lest we die unbloomed.
Alan Frog: We blew it, man, we lost it!
Edgar Frog: Shut up!
Alan Frog: We unraveled in the face of the enemy!
Edgar Frog: It’s not our fault, they pulled a mind scramble on us! They opened their eyes and talked!
Edgar and Alan Frog after staking Marko in The Lost Boys
I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.
It wasn’t him, Charley, it was you. Remember that night in the Garden you came down to my dressing room and you said, “Kid, this ain’t your night. We’re going for the price on Wilson.” You remember that? “This ain’t your night”! My night! I coulda taken Wilson apart!