Scattered feelings all over conscious thinking
Most dazzling conversations took place last night. So comedy of errors I am even considering writing a play.
Thoughts come and go, I am a railway station for thoughts. I have the facility, I run the show, but I don’t own the means and they never stay too long with me.
Yesterday’s calendar page read “Missed Christmas”, and today it says “The end of the road”. How perfectly depressing and alarmingly synchronized. It’s November. I am doing evaluations and I would rather do something intriguing, creative and fun. The perfect topping to that is Hallelujah by K. D. Lang.
Of course I knew my life is a black comedy, which was confirmed by
this test on blogthings.com
| The Movie Of Your Life Is A Black Comedy |
 In your life, things are so twisted that you just have to laugh. You may end up insane, but you’ll have fun on the way to the asylum. Your best movie matches: Being John Malkovich, The Royal Tenenbaums, American Psycho |
For instance, this morning I go to see my boss about a thing or two and she reads me the spam she has received. “There are many reasons for buying an electric chainsaw”. Are you thinking what I am thinking?
I lost three stone and a finger writing a play. You have been warned.
The film of my life is a black comedy, also…no big suprise. I will have Otto Primingers corpse direct and my part will be played by the ghost of Danny Kaye and my mother will be played by Gloria Swanson. With a cameo of the Three Stooges.
N’Yuk, N’Yuk, N’Yuk.
Sorry - I correct my earlier post - I lost threes STONES. They were my lucky stones too.
I think everyone’s result is going to be a black comedy, but I can’t be bothered to test for more possibilities. Mine came back “The Movie Of Your Life Is A Black Comedy” too but I don’t believe it for a second.
I’m in deep denial.