Uptight

Uptight

You slept well last night, despite the stress and the anger and the disappointment. You got up when the sun was almost at the zenith. You felt good, recharged, and ready to take on the world once again. You got to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror and were pleased at what you saw. You looked years younger than your age. This morning, you even sported a nice ruddy complexion. You did some Yoga while telling yourself that you would need to go to bed at reasonable hours in order to preserve your looks.

Monkeys irritated you yesterday. All those constant screamings and scratchings at the armpits in order to get attention, in order to be heard bored the shit out of you.

Today you wonder why there are such creatures on this planet, why there are so many of them, why they don't have any self-awareness. But then you realize they are only monkeys, only animals, for Christ’s sake. What do you expect? Monkeys are funny animals, unwittingly. In other words, they make a mockery (a nice phrase: monkeys make a mockery of themselves!) of themselves and don’t know that. All those banal yelpings are tiresome, however. You can't stand them anymore. They nauseate you. You can't reach the “Delete” button fast enough.

One more thing: the more you know about monkeys, the more you despise them. They all try to show their best side to the world first, but sooner or later their base, despicable, contemptible, brutish, crude, animalistic side surfaces; that’s when you feel nauseous when you see their stupid faces and their antics. Your disgust has reached the point that you regard them as monkeys with advanced stages of leprosy.

Another thing (and another, when you have time to think more of these stupid simians): monkeys love to talk about sex or forward sex materials. While mouthing off nonsensical yet couched in cryptic, oracular pronouncements on out-of-sync, refuse-to-retire tendencies of people in their 60's, the monkeys love to engage in titillating the viewers with sex-laden materials. You wonder why the monkeys don't see the irony of their act. The spectacle of seeing a monkey in its 60's, busy gathering sex materials so it can post on the Internet is so ridiculous, so contempt-inviting that it renders you awestruck with the ludicrousness of the situation. You would love to defenestrate the monkey along with its out-of-place sex materials.

Yes, you are ululating against these monkeys because they offend your sensibilities. You are thankful that despite the onset of Alzheimer's illness, you are still lucid to command enough words to portray your disgust. Being able to vent in this deliberately highfalutin fashion delights the hell out of you. You are not shy. You are not habituated to voice your displeasure in susurrant sounds. In fact, your ability to write this blog today in this manner has brought you a great whimpery happiness, not unlike passing a clear urine.

Wissai