Mostly its about pain. The sort of pain that can only be instilled by nature and its wrath. Would this be that of suffering, or of sorrow? No, as that is left to the downtrodden and the country singers. Not such noble pain, but that such as a the type that bores through your skull like a small rodent in search of a piece of jelly pudding surprise. Only the green plague, and those other minions which are spawned by the evil ball of fire could ever bring such pain and misery.

Like the army of the north, it comes in waves, marching down the slopes of grey matter, chanting the songs of destruction. Every moment wallowing in the glee and satisfaction of the massive wake of anguish that is bestowed upon the channels of nerves embeded in landscape.

At some point, when the resistances fail, and the general, only known as the mindworm, flies his banner of pain triumphantly in the castle of the mind, one wonders if the random thoughts that scurry about fleeing the onslaught will survive or end up as more fodder in the pit of emotions.

But as daybreak comes, pain shall vanish, always fading as if fleeing from the light. Yet it is not a shadow so easily destroyed. For the mindworm is the general of the green plague, spawn of the evil ball of fire, bringer of the banner of pain, destroyer of the castle of the mind…..

Every now and then there is this feeling of enthusiasum or dread that impeds on ones existance, that is not discernable from a particular nor specific nor relavent train of thought. Its sort of like the stench of canine feces that you could swear you smell, but you cannot locate on your person nor in your environment. One often wonders if this is an obtuse trick of the imagination, or is one really tracking dog poop around the house or car.

I’m sure everyone feels a random, but powerful emotion of uncertainty at some point at random intervals. Now whether or not they actually admit they feel as if they should actually go about spouting that the earth is about to hear the raging new music of the sectarian figian spider monkeys, I am uncertain. But I do think that we should admit that we still don’t know where that smell actually is eminating from and that it could be related to a horde of very small chickens nesting atop your new sparkly bread machine…. or … its just that its going to be a strange day, and your can’t figure out why, just go buy a dog that matches the smell….. done….