All great truths begin as blasphemies.
George Bernard Shaw
Read/Post Comments (0)
There is nothing to read here. The content is over there, to your right.
I may, however, at some point, put something here. Some day. Eventually. No pressure.
neurotica
I obsess over the oddest things. Current list toppers include hair loss, flax seed oil, Viggo Mortensen, carbon monoxide poisoning and gravitational force as a push, not a pull.
I'm certain these are all priority concerns of the masses (as they should be) and no further explanation is required. I won't let that stop me (as it shouldn't). (And as I'm sure you knew).
Hair loss: I fully understand that because my hair is long, I'm going to notice the general, every day hair shedding more than those people who have short hair. And yet.. The sight of great tangles of hair in the brush is unnerving; twisted strands splaying out like giant, fluffy, long-legged centipedes always causes me to double check in the mirror for any bald spots. That coupled with the clogged shower drain (after every shower!) is beginning to bother my psyche. More than even the dandruff problem (an altogether different, mid-list obsession).
Flax seed oil: This is wholesome goodness in a bottle. It tastes like crap (as all good-for-you things should). I'm convinced the more I drink it, the more superhuman I should become. I've no medical documentation for this but that little tidbit of illogicality doesn't seem to factor into my behaviour. At the very least, I think I'm afraid to stop taking it - no, I don't feel better or different or anything since I began dosing myself but what if, what if, I stop taking it and my body disintegrates? Or I get a tumour? Or leprosy? Any manner of dreadful plagues could be harassing my immune system right at this very moment and the only thing holding them off is the flax seed oil! Shut up, you don't know that it's NOT true.
Viggo Mortensen: Too obvious. Let's just say that if I wasn't a balding, dandruffy, flax seed oil addict, this man would be mine. Shut up, you don't know that it's NOT true.
Carbon Monoxide Poisoning: This has replaced my "If cows are killing the ozone with their methane gas, what exactly is happening to my lungs by the methane my dog is producing every single night at the foot of our bed?" obsession (FYI - I decided that all the poisons I inhale from smoking a pack of cigarettes a day are in fact protecting me from any serious damage caused by mutt farts). I have no reason for this to be bothering me - nothing sparked this current fear. Apparently, the above list of idiotic concerns wasn't enough to keep my little brain occupied. Enter CMP.
Gravity Push: Shut up, you don't know that it's NOT true.
Said-Out-Loud:
"Seriously? You remember performers' names by whether they're Jew or Gentile? Wow. I bet you'd be hella fun at a Shakespeare festival."
Overheard:
"Whatchya watching?"
"'Knock First'"
"What?"
"I said 'Knock First'"
"Ok. Knock knock"
"Who's there?"
"What?"
"What who?"
"..."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What who?! Who's there?? You said 'knock knock'"
"Argh! Moooommm...."
Oprah's Book Club be damned! I want literary salons to be in vogue again.
I'm certain these are all priority concerns of the masses (as they should be) and no further explanation is required. I won't let that stop me (as it shouldn't). (And as I'm sure you knew).
Hair loss: I fully understand that because my hair is long, I'm going to notice the general, every day hair shedding more than those people who have short hair. And yet.. The sight of great tangles of hair in the brush is unnerving; twisted strands splaying out like giant, fluffy, long-legged centipedes always causes me to double check in the mirror for any bald spots. That coupled with the clogged shower drain (after every shower!) is beginning to bother my psyche. More than even the dandruff problem (an altogether different, mid-list obsession).
Flax seed oil: This is wholesome goodness in a bottle. It tastes like crap (as all good-for-you things should). I'm convinced the more I drink it, the more superhuman I should become. I've no medical documentation for this but that little tidbit of illogicality doesn't seem to factor into my behaviour. At the very least, I think I'm afraid to stop taking it - no, I don't feel better or different or anything since I began dosing myself but what if, what if, I stop taking it and my body disintegrates? Or I get a tumour? Or leprosy? Any manner of dreadful plagues could be harassing my immune system right at this very moment and the only thing holding them off is the flax seed oil! Shut up, you don't know that it's NOT true.
Viggo Mortensen: Too obvious. Let's just say that if I wasn't a balding, dandruffy, flax seed oil addict, this man would be mine. Shut up, you don't know that it's NOT true.
Carbon Monoxide Poisoning: This has replaced my "If cows are killing the ozone with their methane gas, what exactly is happening to my lungs by the methane my dog is producing every single night at the foot of our bed?" obsession (FYI - I decided that all the poisons I inhale from smoking a pack of cigarettes a day are in fact protecting me from any serious damage caused by mutt farts). I have no reason for this to be bothering me - nothing sparked this current fear. Apparently, the above list of idiotic concerns wasn't enough to keep my little brain occupied. Enter CMP.
Gravity Push: Shut up, you don't know that it's NOT true.
Said-Out-Loud:
"Seriously? You remember performers' names by whether they're Jew or Gentile? Wow. I bet you'd be hella fun at a Shakespeare festival."
Overheard:
"Whatchya watching?"
"'Knock First'"
"What?"
"I said 'Knock First'"
"Ok. Knock knock"
"Who's there?"
"What?"
"What who?"
"..."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"What who?! Who's there?? You said 'knock knock'"
"Argh! Moooommm...."
Oprah's Book Club be damned! I want literary salons to be in vogue again.
Read/Post Comments (0)
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Back to Top
