Be A Hip Cat, Be A Ship's Cat...

It gets to the point sometimes where I have little restraint left but to sit and bellow out into the serene quiet, forever shattering the facade that I really give a damn.

But always, after a few nanoseconds, my brain switches gears and I find myself debating whether I prefer the colour blue or the colour cyan. Or, if my brain is truly desperate, I'll spend a few moments attempting to recollect that time back in third grade when I asked Sandy if she'd be my girlfriend and she replied that I was too immature.

Pretty strong judgment coming from a gal who liked to eat her own snot when no one was looking. Thankfully I found THAT out long after my ten year old brain found another gal to crush on who didn't think I was immature for her liking.

Ah, the days of third grade where "couples" would profess their love for each other, then throw dirt clods at one another on the playground. These relationships would always break up the next week because, let's face it, we were a bunch of dumb kids who didn't understand the first thing about romantic love or serious relationships.

We just liked throwing dirt clods at one another.

Remember when being a kid was just that simple?