Vague Insanty 071

The door is not open or closed, it's just sitting there. It can go either way. So I stand there in the doorframe wondering which room to go into.

There's no wrong answer, but none of the answers are right, either.

It's a paradox, inside a mystery, quite near a state of total messed up illogic.

And so I sit in my rickety, old, flaking wooden chair, thinking of things that I might one day do if only I could learn to swim like a fish and fly and dig deep into the earth.

Sadly, I know that I must go through the door, and then, no one can help me - not my cat Bastardtron, not the crazy psychotic clown boy who sings loudly to his pet parrot, and definitely not Travis, the man who once stored raw meat in my freezer for seven years.

So, I will sit here in an old, second hand, dolphin t-shirt for another 5 hours, before deciding on the room.

Maybe I'll go to the room with the windows and the giant mosaic ant covering the wall, or perhaps I shall go to the quieter room and listen to myself think in the dark.

I think it's likely that dogs are messengers from God, y'know?