She looks so gorgeous. She is a heartbreak form a Shakespearean play, a lullaby in my head telling me its alright. She is a beautiful poem, a reminder to check in to the chiropractors because I simply could not wrap my head around her ethereal beauty, and so, I, Brian Shaw, broke my neck trying to look at her just a little closer. She is an A-lister. A girl that owns beauty no English dictionary could define. And today, I looked over at her and she glanced back. Awesome, right? But could a absolute dork like me be liked by her? Is my yearbook photo appealing to the modern eye? Answer to both of them is prolly not.