This Was Just No Fun. I Wanted

This Was Just No Fun. I Wanted My Brain Back.

Whatever Made Me The Way I Am Left Me Hollow, Empty Inside, Unable To Feel. It Doesn't Seem Like A Big Deal. I'm Quite Sure Most People Fake An Awful Lot Of Everyday Human Contact. I Just Fake It All. I Fake It Very Well, And The Feelings Are Never There.

It’s An Odd Term, 'girlfriend,' Particularly For Grown Persons. And In Practice It Provides An Even Odder Concept. Generally Speaking, In Adults It Described A Woman, Not A Girl, Who Was Willing To Provide Sex, Not Friendship. In Fact, From What I Had Observed It Was Quite Possible For One To Actively Dislike One’s Girlfriend, Although Of Course True Hatred Is Reserved For Marriage.

I Rose To My Knees, Mouth Dry And Heart Pounding, And Paused To Finger A Rip In My Beautiful Dacron Bowling Shirt. I Pushed My Fingertip Through The Hole And Wiggled It At Myself. Hello, Dexter, Where Are You Going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I Don't Know, But I'm Almost There. I Hear My Friends Calling.

As I've Said, Freedom Is Really An Illusion. Anytime We Think We Have A Real Choice, It Just Means We Haven't Seen The Shotgun Aimed At Our Navel.