Sneaky Feelings
What an odd day! Here I am, minding my own business, when *WHAM!* Out of the blue comes a good mood! What the heck? I've not done anything lately that is particularly buoyant. Haven't eaten any chocolate for a while. My medication has not been adjusted recently. In fact, I should be somewhat depressed, having had to give away a cat last week. Could it be a smoke screen? Is my doom approaching? Am I way too suspicious for my own good? Well, I have a track record that says I should be! Let me explain . . .
For many years, starting when I was just a tot in the wilds of Kansas (where I was raised by prairie dogs, but that's another story) it never seemed to fail that I'd do or plan something fun, only to be slapped down by one thing or another. Every. Single. Time. It became such a cycle that whenever the slightest glimmer was sighted at the end of the tunnel, I knew for a fact that it was not only a train, but the engineer was speeding up when he saw me.
Thus the years passed, and I grew up with an attitude that today's Goth community could only have wet dreams about. Then, I really began to doubt my own sanity, as whenever my world would fall apart, I'd hear laughter. Not the jovial, aw-don't-worry-it'll-be-alright sort of laugh, but a nasty, hollow snickering, the kind you hear when the lights go out and you *thought* you were alone. I began to talk back to the sound, trying to bluster my way past it. No dice, it just got worse. Then, one day, I'd had enough. Without thinking, I swung around and my fist *connected* with the nose of something. Something that wasn't there. Talk about FREAKING OUT! Suffice it to say, I went home and hid under the covers for a good long time, trying to muddle my way through what had just happened.
Geh, this is getting long. I'll continue later.
For many years, starting when I was just a tot in the wilds of Kansas (where I was raised by prairie dogs, but that's another story) it never seemed to fail that I'd do or plan something fun, only to be slapped down by one thing or another. Every. Single. Time. It became such a cycle that whenever the slightest glimmer was sighted at the end of the tunnel, I knew for a fact that it was not only a train, but the engineer was speeding up when he saw me.
Thus the years passed, and I grew up with an attitude that today's Goth community could only have wet dreams about. Then, I really began to doubt my own sanity, as whenever my world would fall apart, I'd hear laughter. Not the jovial, aw-don't-worry-it'll-be-alright sort of laugh, but a nasty, hollow snickering, the kind you hear when the lights go out and you *thought* you were alone. I began to talk back to the sound, trying to bluster my way past it. No dice, it just got worse. Then, one day, I'd had enough. Without thinking, I swung around and my fist *connected* with the nose of something. Something that wasn't there. Talk about FREAKING OUT! Suffice it to say, I went home and hid under the covers for a good long time, trying to muddle my way through what had just happened.
Geh, this is getting long. I'll continue later.