Sometimes I like to send unexpected emails to unsuspecting people. Emails that make odd statements. Statements that are often meaningless and untrue. For example, "I want to be a ninja," was a message I sent last week. But I don't really want to be a ninja. I'm just not hardwired for violence that way.
But what I like best is when those unsuspecting people who read my unexpected emails write back... Today's response, "So do you still want to be a ninja?" received yet another unexpected reply.
"No. Today I feel my true calling would be handing out turkey legs at a Renaissance Fair."
And this my friends is why even when I'm in the most foul of moods, I can still make time to laugh.
Insomnia
The inability to sleep when your eyes really want to close. Or the consequence of going to bed at 8:30 at night.
I'd say more but there is a bedroom ceiling I've got to get back to staring at.
I'd say more but there is a bedroom ceiling I've got to get back to staring at.
An Imaginary Life
The exactness of what he said I can't remember.
Something along the lines of a suggestion. (As if he were anyone to be making any that might make sense.)
"Get your head out of the books," he said. "Go out and live a life."
I should have said the first thing that came to mind... But I held the truth from tripping across my tongue.
Instead I replied, "Make believe people are nicer."
I saved him the reason behind my words. Things he might understand. Like make believe people don't insist you drink vodka. Or try to douse your reason with wine. Or leave you without a word after you've become used to having them around. Or pretend to be your friend when they've already proven that they're not.
Maybe my books are indeed the better place to be... It seems there isn't a man alive - at least not in my life - who knows how to be a man.
Something along the lines of a suggestion. (As if he were anyone to be making any that might make sense.)
"Get your head out of the books," he said. "Go out and live a life."
I should have said the first thing that came to mind... But I held the truth from tripping across my tongue.
Instead I replied, "Make believe people are nicer."
I saved him the reason behind my words. Things he might understand. Like make believe people don't insist you drink vodka. Or try to douse your reason with wine. Or leave you without a word after you've become used to having them around. Or pretend to be your friend when they've already proven that they're not.
Maybe my books are indeed the better place to be... It seems there isn't a man alive - at least not in my life - who knows how to be a man.
