Now, this is a fucking great tune. One of my darling’s best.
Today I was assigned my final English project for the year. I had to select one of all the six projects. I decided to write journal entries (that I actually do on a daily basis) for Animal Farm set in four different scenes and I have to describe the feelings of a certain animal for each scene. Oh, if one knows me they should know that I always, always write in first-person and it then turns out to be overly eloquent and so emotive that it’ll get out of context. I remember on the 8th grade I had to pen an entry about William Clark and the expedition……He….ended up stranded in a forest…..shooting a man for killing a bunny….as he then ended up eating him and falling in love with him afterwards.
“He’s in my stomach and I love him, but soon out of my rectum!”
My teacher walked silently and appeared a bit distressed some days later.
Oh, and, uh, William sure had pepperoni slices for dinner 😀
Well, anyway, I had to pen an outline for my project consisting many sections and such. So I finished it after six minutes and I had to show it to my teacher.
English is my favorite subject and I’ve always felt the queer need to impress my teachers over the years with essays….and poems and those unconventional stories I’ve mentioned in my past posts.
So, maybe a minute after talking to my teacher, my face flushed. Oh no.
Walking up to him already had been a hardship.
Last time in the silent film museum a lady asked me of what Pola Negri movies I had seen. I named every single movie I had watched as I looked to the ground and blushed as the whole room was an oven turned on at 400 degrees.
I nodded to everything he said and I couldn’t stop blushing and sweating. Not again. I thought this had stopped.
I think I heard some children giggling.
I couldn’t even look at his face. The humiliation was at its ultimate nadir already.
When I returned to my seat, I tried to bury my face with my long hair and even tried covering it with a paper. A few minutes later, my teacher asked me if everything was going fine with the assignment, for I appeared to look so worried. I said I was fine.
No, oh, no. I wasn’t. I had made a humiliating spectacle of myself.
My face was crimson once when I spoke with my psychiatrist…..he sort of resembled Christian Grey. Don’t ask.
My timidity always besets me from me getting better opportunities, such as talking to humans. It’s always with humans. Well, not animals. Animals are dear.
The history of my personality has many black holes, like Russia. Must we remember that one time the Bolsheviks executed Czar Nicholas II and his family, including Anastasia Romanov?
Oh, well, what can I do? Drain all the blood from my system?
Oh, fucking hell. At least there’s Zappa….and the darling journal entries I have to write!! Ooh, I can’t wait to write of all my malicious thoughts as Napoleon! HA-HA-HA!!!!!
Here is Zappa playing….with Pink Floyd. Why? I don’t know. I’m not a big fan. Dark Side of The Moon bores me to tears.