It Was Almost Enough To Make Me

I Rose To My Knees, Mouth Dry And Heart Pounding, And Paused To Finger A Rip In My Beautiful Dacron Bowling Shirt. I Pushed My Fingertip Through The Hole And Wiggled It At Myself. Hello, Dexter, Where Are You Going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I Don't Know, But I'm Almost There. I Hear My Friends Calling.

In That Tremendous Flash Of Freedom, On My Way To Do The Thing For The First Time, Sanctioned By Almighty Harry, I Receded, Faded Back Into The Scenery Of My Own Dark Self, Whole The Other Me Crouched And Growled. I Would Do It At Last, Do What I Had Been Created To Do. And I Did.

And I Was Having Too Much Fun To Stop Now.

This Was Just No Fun. I Wanted My Brain Back.

Happily For Me, Ninety-nine Percent Of All Human Life Is Spent Simply Repeating The Same Old Actions, Speaking The Same Tired Clichés, Moving Like A Zombie Through The Same Steps Of The Dance We Plodded Through Yesterday And The Day Before And The Day Before. It Seems Horribly Dull And Pointless-but It Really Makes A Great Deal Of Sense. After All, If You Only Have To Follow The Same Path Every Day, You Don't Need To Think At All. Considering How Good Humans Are At Any Mental Process More Complicated Than Chewing, Isn't That The Best For Everybody?