My Cardboard Balcony

Maybe Not by Belinda Roddie maybe we are as fragile as the stardust found in fireworks, the fuse merely there to focus our emotions around a tight spiral before they all erupt into temporary flames. maybe forever is just a word found in books and letters riddled with sentimental values, like bullet holes missing their target but still leaving marks that take a fairly long time to heal. maybe we're just strangers who happen to know each other's secrets without the basic human connection needed to boil a kettle with just our body heat, our sweaty noses, our cheeks tinged with the colors of something extraordinary that you can't just find in a box of crayons. maybe it's just simpler than we thought. we are born from wheat stalks and turned to loaves of bread nestled side by side in the grocery aisle. we share a likeness and a common desire for noise. maybe we ought to be quiet for a while. maybe we ought to try to be more acquainted. maybe w

It was the kind of movie that had been intentionally stylized to be over the top - an 80's kid's wet dream as everything from leggings to bad hair to Belinda Carlisle to NES console games popped up onscreen. The story itself was straightforward, reminding its viewers of the many tales of teenage love and friendship as seen in the already established classics. The director, of course, was proud of his work, and the screenwriter was, too - after all, they were both tormented by the daggers of nostalgia.