the pharaoh club

I've read up on mythology but the only thing I'm interested in is making my own stories. Here's the heart clincher: I've seen myself in the stars but those were the falling ones. And here I am, back on earth, back in school, fighting amongst the wolves, and I'm still not the goddess of piety because I disrespect any god that's not mine.

We're not part of the Pharaoh club. Oh, we tried to join. Not a lot of room for comic book enthusiasts. Not a lot of room for anyone, really. Just the Pharaohs. They've got the divine right and the time to build pyramids, what do you have?

Do you have summer playlists? Do you have spirit? Or has the world yanked you by the hair into it's salivating orifice? That's a one-way ticket, my love. Make sure you're ready to give up Saturday cartoons and Dr. Seuss before you take that route. Check the weather, will you? But we never leave the apartment, isn't that a curious notion?

I met some boys in the Pharaoh club. "Hello, peasants," they said.

And that's what we are. Peasant people with regal hearts and that's okay.