More often than not, I find myself at a loss of a word. That doesn’t prevent me from exercising what I shine at, the ability to bullshit in time of mental draught. Come to think of it, I’m really not a thinker at all. I just pretend to be verbalizing an important bit of discourse when I have no idea what the hell I’m going to say next. Take for instance this very post. I’m plowing through it with no clear purpose yet. I honestly have nothing to say. I could scratch my head or another dear part of me and state that life without real friends isn’t worth living. I could then build on it and write an acceptable piece, which might even prove to the liking of a few of you. Or, I could embark on a perpendicular route and affirm that we’re basically alone and would continue to be so until the day we die. This track would put me on a lengthy course of a dissertation in bullshit. How about indulging you, and myself, in a philosophical debate on pleasure and pain! An extremely tasteless bad joke states that the pinnacle of pain is to slide naked on a very long razor blade using your (fill in the blanks) as brake pads [ouuuch]. On a lighter tone, or heavier from a gastronomical point of view, I could wet your appetite and arouse your taste buds with my late (very late) dinner excursion last night. The tender way I stirred the Lima beans (foul) over low heat, the slow pouring of the olive oil, the firm yet loving squeeze of lemon and the orgy of garlic, onions, tomatoes, fresh mint, Tabasco and salt & pepper. Then, I would eloquently describe the consummation, after much anticipation, of this midnight delight; the heartburn, the burping and the farting that ensued well into the wee hours of the morning.
Words give us the unlimited freedom to soar with the eagles or to fuck with the chickens. By creating words, people make themselves disparately into the like of Paolo Coelho or an Arabic journalist writing for a state owned newspaper. I assure you that I fall somewhere between these two extremes, now and always.
Did I really say something? You should’ve known better than to foresee anything of substance to come from a guy who eats Lima beans in the middle of the night then starts his day by telling senseless dirty jokes.