The moodulator rolls …and rolls some more and gets jammed on:
Yeah, stoned.Because I grow opium and ganja and charas ( I don’t think you can really grow any of them, actually..they’re just the end products of stuff extracted from plants) in my non-existent backyard. And also because when I win a beauty pageant and they hand me a crown, that’s exactly the expression I shall don : STONED.
Now, you must be wondering exactly how much crack is in my system, what with my turning out so much trash.Either that, or you’re calling the coppers..
If it’s the latter, let me put your fears to rest.All the above is the result of a classmate’s observation on my permanently bored doormat-dead expression.Adding insult to injury is the fact that I don’t have much have nothing to say(So yes, for all practical purposes : Stoned Fish.).Speaking of which..I want to know WHY.
1. WHY do I not have things to say? Not always.There have been several accounts of people dropping dead from sheer shock when I talk too much- yeah, I was the one on the news last night.This is why you should watch it (even though I don’t.Mental note: Add to ‘Weirdnesses‘ list.)
2.Obviously from the amount I type, it’s not like my head just goes ‘Bzzzz.. NO SIGNAL’ all the time! ( I confess there are times when it just goes on that fuzzy grey screen-mode, though..)
3.Why does this particularly happen when I’m talking to Fuzzy Logic (We’ve both been wondering that.You can picture the conversation :
Me : So..
Me : *Awkward laugh* Yeah.
Fuzzy : WHY US?!!!! And yes, with that many exclamation points.
If anyone wishes to psycho-analyze us, you’re most welcome.In fact I will be putting up PSYCHO-ANALYZERS WANTED signs on here in the near future.Er, you are most certainly not allowed to probe into anything else, ofcourse.Too much of a good thing, you know.. ( Kindly note sarcasm.)
I was er, analyzing myself? That’s a weird thing to say.Anyway, I was doing stuff.And weirdly enough, this passage kind of made sense in relation.It doesn’t explain anything, just brought to mind what I think about a lot- what people could be when stripped to the basics; to very feral, unthinking forms where it’s simply: instinct rules and everyone is in everyone else’s head (except mine because I have Ultra Firewall..).Something like that anyway.Because I just can’t stand around and discuss how shocking it is that Mary Sue‘s going out or what I think about the third woman’s saree.Really, I couldn’t care less and I couldn’t bring myself to care either; too much effort.And I swear, that is ALL that runs through most peoples’ minds ( or the mind’s representative, the oral cavity.Cavity …that’s a good name for it.).
So, obviously building a parallel universe is the answer to it all..
OK, I give up.Lets just hope that this will make more sense Stephenie Meyer’s way:
“Life sucks, and then you die.
Yeah, I should be so lucky.”
OKOK, only kidding, sheesh! But I can’t help but love how very Jacob that is.Jacob, with that perfect sense of bitter, sarcastic humour.Ah, sigh.I’ll devote a post to that one day.But as for what I was really getting at:
“I ran away from them, trying very hard not to think about what was next.Instead, I concentrated on my memories of the long, wolf months, of letting the humanity bleed out of me until I was more animal than man.Living in the moment, eating when hungry,sleeping when tired, drinking when thirsty, and running- running just to run.Simple desires, simple answers to those desires.Pain came in easily managed forms.The pain of hunger.The pain of cold ice under your paws.The pain of cutting claws when dinner got feisty...”
What I wouldn’t give..