In this empty, Bob Dylan’s music-filled room, the sound of doors being knocked drowns… My sharp ear manages to filtrate the irregular tact that interrupted swinging tune. Senses, now alerted, give me an ecstatic goosebumps, yet I decide to wait for the next characteristic course of action to take its place.
Humans and their patterns are easy to predict:
After a short pause interval, the sound of doors being knocked appeared for a second round. Stronger. Louder. More aggressively… Like a prostitute provoking her’s or his (no discrimination) correspondent to react.
I grin as I still manage to read the ifs and buts of the typical behaviour ahead of time. But who couldn’t? We are one way or another the children of society where habits are expected and normal almost as inherited vice. I wonder If the person behind those doors wouldn’t knock twice with much more ‘passion’ would I consider him or her abnormal?
I slowly get up from the ground and before I reach for the handle I pause.
A nerve-wracking wait for, currently, a stranger behind the wall.
Another knock materialises.
And before finally opening the old wooden doors I smile victoriously.
Acts of philanthropy only flushes my pride along the driveshaft. So I just continue to drive Cadillacs, even if it’s only in secret.
Whatever, I do what I want!
Cartman as a pre-teen ho: Whatever, Whatever, I do what I want. I smoke crack, I do drugs, I drink alcihaal. I once killed SIX baby seals with my bare hands.
The sun is shining, the flowers are blooming (almost as beautifully as I am, lol) and the life seems much more lighter and more pleasant. ON THE SURFACE!! Yeah, fellas, I am a martyr of spring love and it’s a torture! Not talking about human-to-human affection, just your natural human-to-seasonoftheyear kind of love. I mean, spring should be barely legal, just look at the kidos with the see-through T-shirts casually spreading chemistry and hormones in the air. It is extremely contagious and drool-dangerous (if you have heart problems, you shouldn’t leave your house. Like ever).
If you, basterds, are like me, stuck with some paperwork, then you shall not be tempted to go outside. It is a very good piece of advice and you should follow it. Trust me, past few days I’ve been trying to do some serious academic business, but then decided to go play in the park, instead. The next thing i know I am getting on with some beers in the corner shop and I can’t possibly leave them hanging, can I(classical ‘it’s their fault for wearing the shiny gloss, not mine’)? So, like a badass, I take those babies, light my cigarette, turn around and walk away, while stuff explodes behind… Well, the last part might have happened only in my head, but it’s cool. I am punk rock, I do what I want.