Hoy es Domingo. Somewhere it is someone's sabbath. Ain't that special. It is my today.
I been a thinkin' again and I need some painkillers, pronto, it hurts so bad, the thinkin' that is. What can I do to pull off this here charade called life? My cranial contents are screaming at about 18-19,000 Hz, 20,000 being the max we homo sapiens can hear, they say. I am sure that is a bit high for my 63 year old cognition but it sounds right. It goes from temporal lobe to temporal lobe and everything in between. The stuff just keeps piling on and every little thing I do seems to make it worse. One moment I feel like I cannot take any more, other than to zone out and try not to feel anything. That is a fun way to live, feeling nothing. That is the basic response of a corpse, still warm, of course and without a hint of rigor mortis. The next moment I am in the tolerable zone again and I start to hope and plan a bit. And then the cycle replays, though the length of the curves is a bit out of the range of a sinusoidal curve, that is to say it is not predictable by any formula.
y(t) = A . sin (wt + 0) doesn't work, and I once upon a time knew what it meant. Ain't that special.
If you have a depressive personality, do not read my stuff today. Ha.
I prefer Ha! It is what my Mom wrote in her letters and it sounds normal. Knowing that LOL means laugh out loud makes no sense because most things that are funny are not LOL rated. They are simple grin moments and Ha is closer to the moment. Now when something is uproarious LMAO fits the bill. I may just ROTFWLMAO. (rolling on the floor whilst laughing my ass off) Now that would really be a hoot, wouldn't it.
Thanks Spudnut. I feel better. Perhaps I can associate with people, should any appear.
Mr Peterdactyl
No comments:
Post a Comment