Breakfast for Kings

100426, originally uploaded by EGJ.

Me and Myself had a little discussion this morning. Why are there two spoons? Can We not share? Is it strictly necessary with two spoons to assert our Majesty?
How uppety We have become! How beyond Ourselves. The O of Our head swelling to Capital size. The O's like owl's-eyes with the f of a beak. There is method in the madness:
see? Like Hamlet's! I will always refuse the role of heartbroken Ophelia. Why did she die? She had too much water, they say. She drowned in the flood of her own tears, swept off her feet, flowers and all.
The madwoman's bridal bouquet: what flowers were they? But Hamlet was never in that scene; he must satisfy himself with her brother.

Mind the eye. I am my own Ophelia. We love Ourselves better than We know, for what it's worth. Dear me, this really is useless.
Together with Our parents the other night, we joined the choir on screen, singing: Jag tänker hoppa / ner från Eiffeltornet, like Ted in his time.
But the vengefulness of Hamlet was caught in a double-bind. This is not about You, this is between Us.

We are too funny, We really must .