A picture of perfection painted reassuringly… on a white board with black ink and on a black board with a white chalk… and as if that was not enough there was endless talk and endless talk and endless talk… my platonic brother would walk with me and all my faults without a harsh enough judgement to sideline my mind full of shades known and unknown to him… agreeable to his taste or not, was hardly a thought sharp enough to separate his lovers from mine or my lovers from his… A universe of this and a universe of that and many a universe that fills the emptiness in between, to lead you to me and me to you, so we could do the things that we do… so you could sing and I could dance, so concepts would assume shapes of a brotherly romance. Wonderful! Wonderful! S o s o slow ! Wonderful! Wonderful! Super fast! Jump from heaven to places below! Mortal beings! Moral beings! Useful things! Knives and Forks! Spoons und Das Volk! Machines singing and making sounds sweeter than ever before, but I’d rather dance with imperfection adorning my soul! Mortal beings! Moral beings! They fill the emptiness with their voices and stories… A universe of poetry! A university of prose! And all those things that arose from heaven and hell of understanding life.
Story Of The Footloose 