I'm not sure how to begin because I'm not sure of the ending. I tend to think that when writing for the public you should know your material, have an outline and maybe an idea of the ending. In this case I have none.
That would probably be a good idea right? A theme. For the sake of propriety we'll name the theme "Deliberations" and try to stick to the subject matter.
There's a movie going on in the background and it's throwing off my concentration. Might I state here for the record, TV is of Satan. Distressingly, I can't move as the only internet I have is attached to a cord shorter than the sound vicinity.
Nothing. I'm moving to another room.
I talked to a friend who suggested that love is a choice, an option that we can either embrace or shun. Correct me, amigo, if I have said this wrong. I guess I want to garner opinions.
It has been my personal experience that love sneaks up on you like a bandito and just when you think you're in the clear it ambushes you with all it's amorous intentions. Is it just a choice we make to surrender to it?
I know you've trotted naked around your room/apartment and felt a delicious sense of well-being.
I make a mean cabbage/mushroom/garlic stir-fry and poo-on-you for turning it down, Ta-Ta because it might make you fart. You only live once. Relish it.
Seven minutes to make those last couple trivial lines. That either means that my brain is slowing down (likely) or it takes me longer to think of inane things (likelier) -- as opposed to deep things, obviously because I am Very deep and Very much a Thinker. Cough Cough. Ahem.
On a sadder note, I will probably die of something tragic like a broken heart or a kneecap tumor.
(ps. I DID take an online test that predicted that I will most likely die of auto-erotic axphyxiation. (??) note to self: stay away from belts)
Deliberation seems to have died in light of senseless banter. But I'm REALLY trying to debilerate this idea of love being a conscious decision rather than an erratic lovemaking of souls. Because if the choice was mine I'd Totally choose to fall in love with a squirrel.
In Futurespect, the squirrel would ignore me completely for his nuts and I would be left having to find my own tree, nutless and probably with an improperly conditioned tail making it frizzy and then, of course, unattractive to other squirrels.
Humans are retarded.
Eye am we todd did.
Squirrels might also be retarded although I would have to research this further, against my better judgement.