CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
He bounced from one box to another, as was his style. The gay marriage box, of course. He always got stuck in that one. It wasn't like he was even thinking deeply about gay marriage, more than he was just repeating the words "gay marriage" over and over. It would play out soon enough. Then he'd be propelled out of the box, automatically, and to a new one. The choclate box, usually. Yes, definitely this time, he could feel it coming, he could feel himself about to shoot out of the gay marriage box and into the choclate box.. He wondered what made that happen. Was it just him thinking it that made it so? Or was he simply not in control at all? Was it all just happening again and again, a pre-programmed procsess? Was it all he was? GAY MARRIAGE, GAY MARRIAGE, GAY MARRIAGE. Nearly done.
He felt himself moving into the choclate box. He definitely didn't do it. He was just moved there, he had no control over it. Right? Ah, choclate. He didn't eat much choclate because it gave him spots. Well, he thought it would. He hadn't eaten any in three years, to be honest, and he had no spots. Was that because he wasn't eating choclate or had they just went away anyway? There was really no way of knowing. Well, he could eat choclate and see if his spots came back. That would be one way. But what if he did get spots and they became CANCEROUS? That was ridiculours, of crouse, spots don't go cancerous, but for some reason he'd thought it once and it was still there in his mind and he just couldn't eat choclate in case it gave him cancer. That was all there was to it.
He left the choclate box forcefully, heading instead into the monkey box. OOK OOK, I'M A MONKEY. Enough of that, he thought. Ah, was he thinking his way out of the monkey box? No, he was still there now, trapped, because he'd thought that. Or was he putting the walls up himself, because he knew it wasn't time to leave yet? Damn it! Damn monkey box. OOK OOK! Enough of that, he thought.
He was in the nothing box. This wasn't the same as thinking about nothing, though. This was the awareness that he was thinking nothing. He didn't like that. He wanted to get out of the nothing box and think about nothing.
He went to the duck box again. What a stupid box.
Then there was nothing.
GAY MARRIAGE, GAY MARRIAGE. Oh no, not again.
He felt himself moving into the choclate box. He definitely didn't do it. He was just moved there, he had no control over it. Right? Ah, choclate. He didn't eat much choclate because it gave him spots. Well, he thought it would. He hadn't eaten any in three years, to be honest, and he had no spots. Was that because he wasn't eating choclate or had they just went away anyway? There was really no way of knowing. Well, he could eat choclate and see if his spots came back. That would be one way. But what if he did get spots and they became CANCEROUS? That was ridiculours, of crouse, spots don't go cancerous, but for some reason he'd thought it once and it was still there in his mind and he just couldn't eat choclate in case it gave him cancer. That was all there was to it.
He left the choclate box forcefully, heading instead into the monkey box. OOK OOK, I'M A MONKEY. Enough of that, he thought. Ah, was he thinking his way out of the monkey box? No, he was still there now, trapped, because he'd thought that. Or was he putting the walls up himself, because he knew it wasn't time to leave yet? Damn it! Damn monkey box. OOK OOK! Enough of that, he thought.
He was in the nothing box. This wasn't the same as thinking about nothing, though. This was the awareness that he was thinking nothing. He didn't like that. He wanted to get out of the nothing box and think about nothing.
He went to the duck box again. What a stupid box.
Then there was nothing.
GAY MARRIAGE, GAY MARRIAGE. Oh no, not again.
