It was like an obscene phone call from nature.
I think it's important that if you spend a significant amount of time on anything, you better have accomplished something [however small it is]. With that being said, I must tell you the story of how I only achieved 3 hours of sleep [and a headache], due to black holes, and a group of morons that I can't prove exist [but if they don't they will].
There I was, cozy in my bed [the room was dark. the fan soothing my soul]. In the distance I heard my sweet feline, Penelope Carrots, crying mournfully. I knew she was carrying that giant green ball she always does, when she realizes everyone has gone to sleep, and she feels lonely. Everything made sense. Life existed only for my sleeping pleasure.
Of course, as always, it was then, that my heart and soul were ready for a brain adventure. I was getting into "my" spaceship, and the sky was the most beautiful shade of pink. Penelope was there with her giant green ball. She winked at me often, and I smiled. Smiled, for her quiet wisdom, and for the exciting trip which was to come [but didn't]. It was time to explore black holes.
I paused for a moment [froze the picture of winking kitties and pink sky], to bake crisply in the warmth of the brilliant metaphoric ways of the black hole. [in the great sea of metaphores, black holes eat my soul]. I can't help but feel [intensely] that humans are linked [immensely]. We are the black hole, and life is the star heading straight for the eye.
But, then I had a thought so horrid [to me], that my feet stamped the bed, and I imagined everything I loved exploding [just like THAT].
The thought went something like...I bet somewhere there is a group of stupid jerks who think black holes are "fucking sweet dude", for no other reason than they have no idea what they are about, and things of mystery are "fucking sweet dude".
And this is fine and well [right?]. The soul smasher is that I bet they are in some shitty "punk" or "indie rockerrr" band. And I bet [ 3 toe curls and a cringe ] that they call themselves The Black Holes. They only pay attention to life long enough to make sure they appear "super fucking rad, and hip".
I think, if I were to only hate one thing [and i do], it would be the fact that so many people live their life not even knowing [or attempting to acknowledge] that is it there. It is! And then they grow old and bitter [or not-they die young and stupid-er? DERRR], with nothing to say except "I fucked my shit up" [or they don't. which is worse? i am not to say]. The whole thing makes me sad and disappointed, which makes me angry [because i don't understand].
So, first thing this morning I traveled to google land to look up "The Black Holes music". HOORAY! [that i did not find what i feared was there], and HOORAY! again, for finding this.
But! This chapter is NOT closed, my friends. This world has not ended, and morons exist and will continue to do so...fashionably.
I suppose, were this name to be used...there are only 2 ways I wouldn't get pissed. One, would be if all the songs were about the brilliant metaphoric seduction of the black hole. OR, if all the people in the group were feisty black girls.
So, if you fit either of these groups, please snatch the name quickly, before a group of super rad hipsters put a dirty mark on black holes. See, watch this. "I was thinking about black holes today, and" [interrupted] "The Black Holes!? Yeahhh that new band is awwwesome."
OH, I dread the day I see it. "Girls go crazy wild! Boys penises go rock hard! The Black Holes, a hot new indie rockerrr band has blasted into this world without any warning. The intricate stylings of this amaaaazing band..." blahblahblah. The music will be horrible, my face will be contorted and sick, and everyone will eat it up like dog poop injected "chocolate" chip cookies. Stop mistaking those feces for chocolate! Whatever, they probably can't even taste the difference.
Ok. I feel better now. Thanks for listening. Or if you didn't...fine! You do what you want [i don't know you].
Anyway, I guess I'm just excited to be alive. I hope you are too.
There I was, cozy in my bed [the room was dark. the fan soothing my soul]. In the distance I heard my sweet feline, Penelope Carrots, crying mournfully. I knew she was carrying that giant green ball she always does, when she realizes everyone has gone to sleep, and she feels lonely. Everything made sense. Life existed only for my sleeping pleasure.
Of course, as always, it was then, that my heart and soul were ready for a brain adventure. I was getting into "my" spaceship, and the sky was the most beautiful shade of pink. Penelope was there with her giant green ball. She winked at me often, and I smiled. Smiled, for her quiet wisdom, and for the exciting trip which was to come [but didn't]. It was time to explore black holes.
I paused for a moment [froze the picture of winking kitties and pink sky], to bake crisply in the warmth of the brilliant metaphoric ways of the black hole. [in the great sea of metaphores, black holes eat my soul]. I can't help but feel [intensely] that humans are linked [immensely]. We are the black hole, and life is the star heading straight for the eye.
But, then I had a thought so horrid [to me], that my feet stamped the bed, and I imagined everything I loved exploding [just like THAT].
The thought went something like...I bet somewhere there is a group of stupid jerks who think black holes are "fucking sweet dude", for no other reason than they have no idea what they are about, and things of mystery are "fucking sweet dude".
And this is fine and well [right?]. The soul smasher is that I bet they are in some shitty "punk" or "indie rockerrr" band. And I bet [ 3 toe curls and a cringe ] that they call themselves The Black Holes. They only pay attention to life long enough to make sure they appear "super fucking rad, and hip".
I think, if I were to only hate one thing [and i do], it would be the fact that so many people live their life not even knowing [or attempting to acknowledge] that is it there. It is! And then they grow old and bitter [or not-they die young and stupid-er? DERRR], with nothing to say except "I fucked my shit up" [or they don't. which is worse? i am not to say]. The whole thing makes me sad and disappointed, which makes me angry [because i don't understand].
So, first thing this morning I traveled to google land to look up "The Black Holes music". HOORAY! [that i did not find what i feared was there], and HOORAY! again, for finding this.
But! This chapter is NOT closed, my friends. This world has not ended, and morons exist and will continue to do so...fashionably.
I suppose, were this name to be used...there are only 2 ways I wouldn't get pissed. One, would be if all the songs were about the brilliant metaphoric seduction of the black hole. OR, if all the people in the group were feisty black girls.
So, if you fit either of these groups, please snatch the name quickly, before a group of super rad hipsters put a dirty mark on black holes. See, watch this. "I was thinking about black holes today, and" [interrupted] "The Black Holes!? Yeahhh that new band is awwwesome."
OH, I dread the day I see it. "Girls go crazy wild! Boys penises go rock hard! The Black Holes, a hot new indie rockerrr band has blasted into this world without any warning. The intricate stylings of this amaaaazing band..." blahblahblah. The music will be horrible, my face will be contorted and sick, and everyone will eat it up like dog poop injected "chocolate" chip cookies. Stop mistaking those feces for chocolate! Whatever, they probably can't even taste the difference.
Ok. I feel better now. Thanks for listening. Or if you didn't...fine! You do what you want [i don't know you].
Anyway, I guess I'm just excited to be alive. I hope you are too.