I find it rather charming that someone has donated $100 in order to have the picture of the pig removed.Was the pig really so offensive that someone felt that the only possible course of action was to pay to ensure that the pig would move on?Just part of human nature, I suppose. I rather liked the pig. His eyes seemed to offer encouragment at I was writing. His smile was always kind and loving. Sometimes I would talk to him, tell him my troubles.Goodbye, pig. I enjoyed your eyes and bright smile and even brighter pink skin.
All the blueness had finally been removed from the water. Instead, a red sheen had replaced the once vibrant blue.This is where the red sea originated from.Whilst all the humans were still debating over what colour the sky should be, the god of the sea attached small vials of the blueness to every bird he could find. When the birds flew in the air, the vials exploded, covering the grey sky in blue.The humans, once they realised what was happening, could only stand and stare in impotent silence as their careful plans were destroyed by the god.
Do you remember when you were younger? You had a balloon and it was the redest thing you had ever seen. So red that you though it would tase of cherry if you took a bite.It was a windy day and you had yet to grasp the fundamentals of physics. The string tugged at your hand and you let go.Tears poured out of your eyes as you watched it drift further and further away and you wish there was something you could do to hold it just one more time.I remember that feeling.That sinking, horrific feeling.
Due to the failing economies of virutally every country, I humbly propose my own monetary system, which I suggest should be adopted by all as soon as possible.19 Buddunies equals 1 Davounians, except on Mondays, where 11 Buddunies will equal 1 Davounians.7 Davonians equals 1 Alexani, except on Wednesdays, where 5 Davonians will equal 1 Alexani.3 Alexanis equals 1 Dabdab, except on Fridays, where 2 Alexanis will equal 1 Dabdab.On Thursdays, everything will be worth the same as each other. On Sundays, they will all be worth nothing. Saturdays, they will be worth whatever you want.
Do you remember? When you were much younger and you just wanted someone to talk to.So you would create someone. A perfect someone. Someone who was wonderful. The person you wanted to be. A prefect projection of your dreams.When times were rough, you would whisper your pain and sorrow, dripping like ice down their ear.On happier occassions you would burst those words in their face like fireworks.You remember? The comfort and joy those illusions gave you. And then you grew up. You forced them away. They left, and you stayed. You remember. I know you do.
If you took away everything, what would there be left of me?Shave off this hair and spoon out these eyes. Suck off the skin and tug at those tendons and muscles and mop up all that blood that always gets everywhere no matter what you do.Remove thoes organs that used to be vital. Grind me into my atoms. What then?There will be no grain of intelligence. No sign of love or pain. No box for laughter. A lack of colourful pigments. Take away my body, and all I am is nothing.I'd better keep my body, then.
Do you remember? When it was one of those slousy slow days, where you eyes could only muster the energy to stay half open.You lie down outside, grass flitting around you. You hold a book against the sky, position it so that it blocks out the sun. Bees wander around your head and warmth radiates around you, bathes you and splashed over you.One of those lazy days, where time has no meaning. Where little has any meaning, beyond the words of the book and the sensations on your skin.Those days. The best days. Days we live for.