Thursday, December 16, 2010

A mouse. A mice. A meases.

The reason I do some of the things I do.

Behave the way I tend to behave.
And on rare and far between occasions, enjoy the things I enjoy.
Psychoanalyze yourself sometime.
It can be a riveting thing.
Try and figure out why you fall in the same pitfalls time and time again.
How you find yourself in toxic and loveless relationships.
Track down that dark and dirty secret in your past, the one that embarrasses, hurts, and pains you to no end.
Dig it up.
Pull that skeleton out of the closet dust him off and politely ask if he would care to dance.
That one thing you hate about yourself, that little critter that lives in your head and makes you do the thing you despise most about yourself.
Take a finger insert it into your nose push as hard as humanly possible and attempt to give yourself a full frontal lobotomy.
More than likely, leaning to the likely, you will find yourself in an ER waiting room next to a man attempting to get off in strange and unusual ways you have never dreamed of.
Those stories you hear about people loosing limbs in the most spectacular ways.
One of these people will be there as well.
Crowded in a room next perverts, weirdos, sex fiends, and addicts, and you didn’t even have to break a crime for such a vibrant grouping.
Or you can simply try to rid yourself of that little critter in your mind, the one who holds that darkest secret, and reminds you of it at your weakest and proudest moments.
Your subtle reminder that you are not the angel you think you are.
Well just try, one day instead of wiping him out, ask him “Why?”
Find out where he came from.
Scrap around that vast and empty mind of yours, no offense, and try to find out what the source is.
Ground zero to your one true mental issue.
Or take the easy way out, but if you do, may I suggest you try a pencil or chopstick.
The majority of the time, the human finger is much too wide and incapable of getting deep enough into the nasal cavity to do any real damage.

Good luck

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