Bad Day

Hearts are stupid. They should learn to listen to brains. It doesn't even matter how much you try to reason with the stupid things. You thump your chest and say, "Listen mister! You stop hurting or I'll give you something to hurt about." But, you learn quickly that hearts don't respond to idle threats.

So, you live a life of distraction. You surround yourself with awesome friends to hang out with. The best thing is that you end up with many new awesome friends you didn't even know would be there for you. And, your heart celebrates this and it helps take away some of the pain.

You get to the point where you think, "Hey, maybe it's time to try my hand at the game of love again." You date some people. It's good. It's bad. You date someone you like. But, the whole time you're evaluating these new feelings. The last thing you want is hurt someone else, to rebound off them.

You're being a good person. You're letting yourself feel real feelings. You're letting go of the past. You're not latching on to the first person who comes along (for selfish reasons or otherwise). And, then you have a bad day. A bad, stupid day because it was a day that was important to the past you're trying to let go.

All you want is to stop feeling so miserable. You want to lash out at the person who caused the pain. You want to bury yourself in frivolous affections to forget how terrible you feel. But, you know it'd be unfair to act on these thoughts. So, you hold strong and wait.

Something Fun

I added another old tale of mine. It was something I typed up out of nowhere during a chat session many years ago. I was, obviously, quite bored and started typing a story into the chat. It was probably written in about a minute and I decided to capture it and save it to my computer. And, here it is back on the internet in full digital glory.

Tale Feathers of the Silver Chicken

The silver chicken peered down the dark alley. It took a long gulp and proceeded along with a clickity-clack on the blacktop. It was then a rat skittered out from behind a dumpster. Now while rats may startle you and me, to a chicken they're rather deadly. The chicken gave a little chirpy gulp and cantered down the alley with a quickness only seen in chickens that have lost their head.

The chicken was nearly home free when it heard the clackity sound of running feet becoming ever more noticeable. "I sure am running fast,” thought the chicken. But not a moment later the chicken realized the clacking was not his own feet. They didn't have that distinct metal sound. It was more like nails and hundreds of them. The chicken dared a glance back and saw a plague of rats nearly on his tail feathers. "This just won't do,” thought the frightened chicken; and he began to flap his wings in a fettered panic. In fact, the chicken’s panic was so great that most of the time it was running on air.

The rats were getting closer and closer, the chicken could hear them squeaking in delight of the expectant meal. It was then the worst possible thing happened, the chicken tripped on over it's own feet in mid-air. Somersaulted and landed flat on it's back. The rats swarmed the chicken and dove in to what was to be a great feast. It was then cries of pain came from the rats, for you see it was a silver chicken and they all had chipped their teeth on the wretched thing.