All of our musings

Light Makes You Happy

Light makes you happy, dark makes you sad, unless it’s too light, then you become unhappy. Darkness and sleep make you happy, brightness whilst trying to sleep makes you unhappy. The intensity of darkness when sleeping makes no difference to the degree of happiness. If light is only tolerable when it is at less than pure brilliance, and in fact diluted by darkness, does this mean that dark is better than light? No, because dark makes you blind and light blinds you in a most distressing way, but somewhere between complete darkness and intense brightness is comfort, which in turn makes you happy. Happiness must therefore be derived from both dark and light.

There's a bespectacled man creating a teapot shape with his body. His lime green tie looks a bit like a big green phallus sprouting from his neck. Both hands now drop to hips, as the groin thrusts forward in a tedious moment of assertion - Oh I'd love to slap your forehead with a slippery fillet of salmon you silly little man.

Asprins for your eyes

Everyone I can see has glasses on except me. I think they must do a hell of a lot more work than I do. All that work has strained their sad tired eyes beyond the limitations of their design capacity, leaving a part blindness that speaks for itself.

Tedious Chore

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock, the second hand clicks and jolts almost exactly in time to my lazy mouthing of these sounds. Oh lordy lord, this is the problem with real time only we’re only four seconds down. It’s almost excruciating how terribly drab and dull his is proving to be. Even though I try to keep my back straight whilst sitting staring blankly at this flickering blindness-maker, I slouch to create curves in places that should not be so. If only my postural consultant could see me now, she’d be so disappointed with my progress. Manipulate me into a boneless lump and try to kick my genitals off. Oh look, I’ve only just noticed that someone has closed the blind in order to cut out any possibility of natural light getting through to feed our brains and bodies – what a chronic bore. An all encompassing depression begins to set in like an unshakeable chill to the bones. Fuck it, I don’t want to live like this anymore, I would love to have a lovely time all of the time.

The concentration of negativity flowing through me is blindingly obvious for all to see and I think they all know. Was I speaking my thoughts subconsciously?! No no please don’t...Mmmmm. Mmmmmmmmm. Someone has launched a counterattack and sellotaped my lips together. No sooner is the application made than the sticky strip is whipped from my mouth. The adhesion tears my lips clean off my face to leave useless flapping and wordless lip plinths with exposed flailing tendrils and an almost unbearable surge of pain. I try to curse, but the sound produced is that of a drunk, inexpertly hollering down a traffic cone trumpet only to create a comedy mouth fart. But this is no laughing matter. Thankfully this vision of hideousness turns out to be a mere figment of my warped imagination. Its ok, it never really happened. And so I return to a state of tempered depression which as it happens is really quite tolerable.