Who does not know that. You sit fled into itself, like a zombie, its been translated smile is the only thing that holds it together yet, on his Holzstühlchen at dinner and eat together with the self-invited from his Neighbors Hood a bird. Or rather, their Vogel. Suddenly the lady a typed on his left hanging lifeless to one of the limbs. "No one home", the brain registers the neck and so you stare blithely to himself and his labyrinth of thought. While you can wander the inner eye with its upper story, one notices the prevailing disorder. Insanely comfortable. Here it can withstand. "Sweetheart, everything alright?" Haunt one's worried, but disruptive neighbor through the words of the ear canal. You turn the robot head to it, good shows the teeth and round, like a sheep over the fence on which lacks a 'latte or other safe and sound in his Garden of Eden back. Just when one is absorbed in thought a Stängelchen want from the wonderful asparagus stuck in the olfactory bulb, because you wondered if you could tickle the whole boredom, to cheer his brain, Molly unexpectedly burst the balloon and its Gedankeschluckauf throws one from its data path. Agony.
I was wondering my whole life, why I can fish from so many other thoughts groats no suitable conversational topics. I have agonized over what is with me in private wrong. Others may crap out of verbal but also make candy. Why I'm just like a mentally deranged mentally confused, unconstructive to utter sentences and to feel it, as if it were my bird from another planet? Why if you please I can not talk about unimportant trivia, without losing the already troubled mind anyway? I put my head in the oral thin whistle of the vocal thunder beam to find the drain. But how to find the reason, if the barrel has no breeding ground? The mystery of "make great" plus one on the question of why I can not concern myself with the Irrelevitätstheorie the other, seemed to overwhelm me. Here, the answer is really quite banal. Gedankenfürze me stink! They obscure my brain and I can not think straight. If someone einknattert on me, gets the hollow phrase "shit to the brain" suddenly a new, substantial meaning. My free Liqour need for such monologues to my partners, once the ventricles of the filled slurry. I have nothing against thoughts, my neurons fertilize the fields, but the manure, the unload some people in others, stifled the best Ideensaat. As Oscar Wilde once said, "Blessed are those who say nothing have and keep quiet. "Exactly this is the way it is. Therefore, I've been keeping as a child at the dinner table, the nose, if I had not tasted anything. My neighbor Molly, this behavior is certainly still a mystery. Because when I took my teeth between the thumb and index finger and my husband with rolling eyes looked at her, while Molly was raining their grade, content-rich effusion of our fallen leaders, was the only laugh that began clever, ER, my gracious Zombie marriage husband.
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