Sorry sir, your monocle is clouding, let me take it and clean it up, before shoving it down your throat so you learn what it is to choke on the sacrilege of common decency, you filthy worm. Oh, shit…that time again? I didn’t realise you’d be here…not that I care, if you’ve lasted this long you must have a bit going on in there. A prime ripe charm isn’t it, sacrificing posh puppets because the real things only acknowledge us when they’re feeling an exploitative turn. Anyway, better get back to living, we’re not ready to run out of barricades, a revolutionary army. It’ll all end bitterly, I can’t yet even make sense of how I’m feeling.
I don’t want to cement my prejudice and risk it becoming a sledgehammer that can cave someone’s head in. It’s bad enough in its current zeal, a hyperactive octopus that suckers on where it’s unwanted, but at least it promises to begin to unpeel if I can just find the way to acknowledge it in the way that it wants. No game but I feel like a fool for carrying it with me, feeling shame that when it really hits is when it sucker punches right back onto me. Before all this, I don’t know if I had empathy.
Insanity was just an empty threat, a temporary respite from losing my head. Now I’m forced to try and make sense. So up pops a confessional digression as my idea of what squiggles should go one and then the next. Revealing my own prejudices with an unclinical patter of tip tapping, I want to cajole them into something more revealing, life’s more peachy when it’s more wonderfully weird.
I see your turtle is biting your toe Not that the world is safe, or that any of us can warn you of each coming disaster, or even that you shouldn’t take the necessary precautions to make you feel comfortable. But the dialogue here is strictly reserved for taking what you’ve got and making something happen.
No, I don’t buy it either, too fuzzily optimistic. It obviously hasn’t had to gristle and sharpen its elbows for its gloried existence. Yeah, you should see how many demons I’ve choke slammed to be sitting here. I am a bit tatty but don’t worry, you just wouldn’t get it, you’ll never understand the wisdom I’ve taken. I better not patronise you much longer. I’ll implode. Privileged to glisten off misunderstanding, grateful I don’t have to wilt in the radiation of pity as it births warped misgivings.
Time for a joke anyway, “two bears walk into a bar, one is abjectly psychotic. They both have a chortle at the differences in their appreciation of the decor on the ceiling and the trifling reality of never having met a salmon who could weave tales of forgotten magic. Both walk away smiling, revelling in the delights of a newfound perspective…