When she t.r.i.p.p.e.d my mind, and he asked if I was okay, I cried. He looked aghast, but he didn't know the truth – that would horrify him even more. As I ran a w a y I heard them explain to him who I was – what I was.
(Penelope is laughing at me.)
Who could (b)lame her? What's the point of another s/i/l/l/y dream? What's the point of false fantasies? It's just wasted time, all wasted time.
Your life is wasted time.
I wish I could tell him how I really felt. Wish I could tell him that I'm not so…strange. I'm not so weird. I'm not so bizarre. I'm not so odd. I'm just misunderstood.
Are you fucking kidding yourself?
All I want is someone to hold on to. Is that too much to ask for? All I want is someone to whisper in my ear and make the voices go away. I don't want a Penelope, I want a knight.
I am your knight, complete in a shining silver mask.