-awww, hell br I said to the disconsolate creature walking beside me br through the park. br br -take a look at those lilies in the goddamn pond br as your paradigm of hope: br they float on their sorrows. br br and she, hopelessly woebegone, replied br with dolefully crestfallen eyes in that absurd, uncatchable, caramelsunlight, br br -but what about when it rains, it pours all over them? br that’s how I feel now. it’s the rainy-season Spring of my discontent. br (she actually talks like that, it’s amazing) br br and I said br -well, they fill with water, to the brim, and eventually they sink. br that’s what happens. br but once the weight of their sorrows sinks them, they capsize, and spill br their sorrows out into sorrows and reemerge, br light and empty, br out into that absurd, uncatchable, caramelsunlight.