..and it kind of hurts when the
kind of words you write
kind of turn themselves into knives, and don't
mind my nerve, you can call it fiction, but I
like being submerged
in your contradictions.
I'm beginning to think I've found my calling. That thing I'm supposed to be doing with my life, the undeniable pull towards a pursuit so utterly noble that all around me cannot help but admire my complete sense of purpose...
I belive there's a yeah, right in there somewhere. Or perhaps a gee, Lauren what is it you are supposed to do with your life? What has called you so greatly to action?
It would seem, my friends, that I have been called to the humble existence of the village idiot. This is the only possible assumption, especially if my behavior continues as it has with no end in sight and seemingly no way to control it...
Idiot. Inappropriate. Ridiculous.
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2 comments:
Village idiot?
You have opened the dialogue for conversation, my friend. Logically, I want to know: how did you reach this conclusion?
Anxiously waiting...
(PS...For the record, if I ever thought you to be a "village-anything," idiot was never an occupation I stumbled upon...)
This conclusion was not reached logically. You cannot logic your way to your true purpose in life, you must feel it!
...I am struck by my recent streak of behavior that does not fit someone with more than two brain cells. This is why, "village idiot" seemed appropriate.
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