Vague Insanty 078

I'm all alone in Zimbabwe, tonight. There are candles and some fire and a distinct lack of human contact. I think that if I came back tomorrow I would become a rhino and I would gore people, as a hobby.

It's not that I'm violent, or in some way wishing to be a giant rhino which brutally gores people on sight -- but I just kind of wish I was a giant rhino which gores people on sight; I do not want what I explicitly desire.

And so I sing melodies to myself backwards and wonder what may happen tomorrow, or yesterday and vaguely believe that one day I will be transformed into a super-human and wear a silly cloak and talk loudly in a commanding voice of victory.

But the sad truth is that I am here, alone in my tent, reading badly out of date cinema magazines, and whispering to myself about car insurance.

There is no hope for survival, so I will choose to be a goldfish and flop a lot, causing children to cry as I leave the protective universe of my water-filled bowl and enter the killing vacuum beyond.