Purple Haze

PURPLE HAZE

ALL IN MY BRAIN

LATELY THINGS JUST DON'T SEEM THE SAME

ACTIN' FUNNY

, BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY'

SCUSE ME WHILE I KISS THE SKY

PURPLE HAZE

ALL AROUND

DON'T KNOW IF I'M COMIN' UP OR DOWN

AM I HAPPY OR IN MISERY?

WHATEVER IT IS,

THAT GIRL PUT A SPELL ON ME

She blinked twice, lifted her hands in the air in surrender and accepted her fate.

What is fate anyway? What we end up with when there finally is no other options for change?

Fate isn't fate - it's just the inability to adapt.

But one is limited to how they can adapt.

One can not adapt to certain extremes - you can not adapt to living in the Arctic with nothing but a pair of shorts on - neither can one adapt to the state of death - death is the end of adaption - it is in the sense the final adaption.

Haha that sounds REALLY dismal... death and dying and all that such - but sometimes extremes work better for explaining.

It was an endless thirst - and she searched far and wide for something quench it but nothing lasted.

The desert was hot. The kind of hot that made it feel like your feet were melting off when it got your sandals. The air was dry - and hurt the lungs to deeply inhale - it was almost thinner than average. The sun lit the skin on fire and it pierced deep into the muscles making it difficult to trudge a long. The heat was exauhsting... the pain and weight of things carried weigh more heavily than usual and at night the change in temperature from the harsh heat of day to the freezing of night makes sleep impossible. The path followed is one unknown - with no known destination just a hope that the next step would bring you closer to peace.

Where will it take the traveler?

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My favourite kind of pop is Canada Dry but I often call it "Canadian Dry" by mistake.
I'm the only person in my house who drinks coffee.
I hate cake.
I read the whole Lord Of the Rings Trilogy before the movie

*****

In every house hold, hidden cleverly amongst the junk in basements and cluttered closets live that houses Permanent Petite Super Intelligent Gnomes.. or 2PSIGS as they call themselves in their tongue.

These creatures, according to the scale of intellegence created by Sr. 2PSIG III himself, rate 20X more intelligent than humans... and if it wasn't for their unfortunate size... and the ability to be stomped on with very little skill... wouldn't have to be hiding in people's attics breeding mice.

The 2SPSIGS measure to be about the size of the average man's thumbnail and are known to catch and raise spiders for their silk to weave the long robes that they wear.

It's common knowledge that 2SPIGS have a weird obsession with spoons, pens and left socks - these items are used in their monthly Rituals of Superiority in which they have great feasts of mice meat.

Besides that they keep to themselves always planning something but never going through with it.
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