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a spiel the mystery is this: what more can you say if i already said the things that matter before you even got to say them? i know what you don’t know how to put a finger on, sleepyhead. speaking in a tongue not yours will only worsen the case. so cut the crap, tell me about my mistakes. was it my mocking of who you’re praying to during religion class? was it in the grumpiness of my greeting this morning? we always make a scene until there are too many cameras flashing behind our backs but think twice in ending it first. how do we resist, then, being the center of attraction? you have to say i’m wrong, and i have to say i’m sorry. then explain, explain, explain. to me, to you. there’s no space for second-guessing. there’s no space for—




Joust Volume 1  
Joust Volume 1