Am I a hermit waiting to run away? I cannot abide the noise of other human beings in my places of abode. I can sit for hours somewhere relatively public (cafe?) and write, read, ignore the wankers that sip their decaf lattes and wax profound on world politics [It’s really a shame that the politicians are the people running our world. The people with the real knowledge on how to keep a country wealthy, happy, cohesive without stepping on the rest of the world’s toes, are too busy driving cabs and wasting their unemployent time in the planets coffee houses], but with the slightest noise about my home, I go slightly batty, lose all concentration, and work myself into such a frenzy that I a afraid I shall blow a head gasket…

This is my HOME people. Stop talking, walking, sniffing, moving, slurping your fucking green tea, etc etc. GO AWAY! Wait… perhaps it is unfair of me to expect everyone to leave me alone, I’m not Calvin after all [obscure Calvin & Hobbes reference… go figure], I ought to just go away myself, move out to the woods… no wait… I did move out to the woods… and I found a bunch of bloody hippies who never shut the fuck up… hmmm…


~ by Gethin A. Lynes on September 5th, 2007.

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