THE REAL, THE IMAGINARY, THE COMPLEX..

I love numbers, those soothing rows of digits.. When the fancy takes me, I count. And I get lulled by numbers, cause they never lie.. After today’s counting spree, however, I wish I could replace the never with hardly ever. And sue those asses for cooking my books.

I’ve recalled the family IQ levels. Well, I kind of got used to the fact that I’m actually the least intelligent person in this tribe. Not exactly the extreme one would want.. but maybe it’s good as it is. Has its uses sometimes. But then, I’ve recounted the BMI and found out that not only am I the dumbest bearer of the family name, but also the fattest! Can’t fix that, can you? All in black and white, irrefutable. Shit.

I don’t usually mind residing on extremes of different spectra, I do this a lot, but these two.. well.. I kind of want to jump to the other end of both. Or at least find myself in the middle there on the latter.. Funny weird. Driven to extremes, one craves for mediocrity, or even hyper-mediocrity. Call it herd instinct. I make it a character flaw.

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I-WITNESS:

FINAL WORD


Truth is a matter of the imagination.

U.K.L.
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