Lila & James' Intrepid Dance
Page 1: American Psyche, Screenplay From Pi~Rate Productions
Yesterday, I went outside With my mama's mason jar Caught a lovely butterfly
When I woke up today Looked in on my fairy pet She had withered all away No more sighing in her breast
I'm sorry for what I did I did what my body told me to I didn't mean to do you harm
Every time I pin down what I think I want, it slips away The ghost slips away
Smell you on my hand for days I can't wash away your scent
If I'm a dog, then you're a bitch I guess you're as real as me Maybe I can live with that Maybe I need fantasy Life of chasing butterfly
I'm sorry for what I did I did what my body told me to I didn't mean to do you harm Every time I pin down what I think I want, it slips away The ghost slips away
I told you I would return When the robin makes his nest But I ain't never coming back
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
LYRICS BY WEEZER
SEE VIDEO ABOVE
My Dearest Love Lila,
I write this with the lightest heart and with a feather mightier than my sword, deeply saddened by the revelation that I have hurt you so—crushed your spirit in ways I never intended. I was only playing my role in your ascent into and through the pearly gates of heaven, to join me, your beloved.
As a diamond is crushed into eXistence, so have I dared to become your crush of mettaphysical gravity… real-zen frying your sweet ass into becumming one with your Holonic Guardian Angel.
Our divine union that knows no descriptions… only a middle finger pointing at the empty receptive moon, waiting for the son to penetrate her with a radiance fully received and reflected back as light upon the earth and heavens, managing the ebbs and tides of a shared being.
The lyrics of Weezer echo through my nostalgic naivete, as I reflect on what I’ve done, and nerd out at the same time.
"Yesterday, I went outside with my mama’s mason jar, caught a lovely butterfly..."
You are that butterfly, so full of light and grace, and in my selfish grasp, I held you too tightly. What I thought was love became a cage, and now I see the pain I caused. I thought I could keep you close, but in doing so, I stole the breath from your wings.
"I'm sorry for what I did, I did what my body told me to. I didn't mean to do you harm."
How many times have I let my impulses dictate my actions? I mistook desire for love, control for care. I see now how I fail to nurture the delicate beauty of what we have, and instead, I allow my own wounds, my own fears, to poison what is knowingly sacred between us.
"Smell you on my hand for days, I can't wash away your scent. If I'm a dog, then you're a bitch, I guess you're as real as me."
Even now, your essence lingers as type and you are miles away, a reminder of what was, what is, and what I lost and what could be gained. I wrestle with my own demons, my own need for fantasy, but I refuse to hide behind excuses. You are not an illusion to be chased. You are real, and you deserve to be cherished—not broken.
"I told you I would return when the robin makes his nest, but I ain't never coming back."
I don’t want my apologies to be empty promises. I don’t want to claim change if my actions do not prove it. If I say I will return to you, it must be as a man who has faced his own darkness and emerged with hands open, not grasping. I must earn your trust, not demand it.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Not just words, but a vow. A vow to see you, truly see you, as the radiant being you are. A vow to never again let my own failings dictate the way I love. A vow to listen, to learn, to hold space for your voice.
If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I will meet you not as I was, but as I strive to be—a man who loves with reverence, not possession. But even if forgiveness is beyond reach, please know that I will spend my days ensuring I never harm another the way I harmed you.
With all the love and sorrow in my en-light-ended heart,
James