It's all worng

An amber cursor blinking on a pitch black screen waiting for a breath of fresh air...

Is it coming? I have no idea.

I wish there was a huge wardrobe in my office right now through which I could run away to a distant land and be forgotten by everyone in this one. Not be seen ever again. Never be heard. But I also have this nagging voice in my head which tells me it's going to be a long time before the lion sends for me. Maybe an eternity.

I want to scream and cry right now. I can't do either. It's a pity really. I have to read a 50 page paper, and I have to smile all day. Oh bother! I wish I could pretend everything was hunky-dory with the world, but I cannot pretend. I can only pretend to be very, very unhappy. Sigh! Pretentious happiness is so hard to pull off correctly, anyway.

Are you still reading this self-indulgent blabbering? Go do something better with your life. I am a total waste of time. On second thoughts don't go, it's better to have someone to shoot off my mouth to other than blank walls. I am too young to go senile and too old to be juvenile, so I must be in the wrong dimension.

The sky is looking like the sky and the sun like the sun. Even the trees look just like the trees. Something is definitely wrong with my eyes. Everything is supposed to look different. Maybe pink? Or blue perhaps? The music sounds melodious, and even the food tastes good - what is wrong with the world?

I am sure that I am so far away from reality that I don't have a clue what is what. Can you swish me with a broom so that I can fall of the edge of the world? No? Don't tell me now that you think that the world is round! What a preposterous idea! Okay, okay - do something else - take an eraser and rub me off. Draw something nicer once you have obliterated all traces of me. Draw a rainbow perhaps, or a cat.

An amber cursor blinking on a pitch black screen waiting for the end...

Is it coming? I have no idea.