Thinking for two

It’s hard to do the thinking for someone else, and even harder when they consistently refuse to aid or abet their assister in any way, shape or form. Thus people tend not to think, since people tend not to think.

This general fact leads to massive levels of default doing, as humans – bumbling like vegetarian zombies – move along through life not really thinking things through, but generally refraining from eating brains. Perhaps that’s because deep down they are scared of them.

However every now again someone comes along who not only thinks, but thinks for two. These people are rare gems, men or women who – out of the kindness of their heart – think, and think on another’s behalf. sometimes the lucky near-zombie is even grateful that his or her thoughts are being handled by another, but most of the time their is low-level resentment or bland obliviousness. Their is a moral in this somewhere, but as my designated thinker is away it will have to wait for another time.

Almost Human

It was almost human, for a plant. Now, some people may say that I was exaggerating, but as it sat their, eyes following ma across the room. I could have sworn it was judging me. I mentioned this to my visitor, who laughed and said IU was imagining things, like her, but I now know better than to pay any attention to them. Especially as the clean up takes days.

I had had the plant for a while, ever since I had taken it home from the shop. I’m a bit vague as to how exactly I came into possession of it then, but it definitely was in a shop. Maybe the commotion made me forget.

Anyways, the pot I had to get for it was large. The garden centre asked me if I was sure it was just a houseplant, but I told them yes, and stared at them until they just let me pay for it.

Filling up the pot with earth was difficult, as it was a big pot, and the roots were unwieldy. It was almost as if the plant was trying to struggle against me. Human again I suppose. I even went to fetch a knife to hack some off, but then things went a bit easier, so I didn’t have to. It’s strange sometimes, how it almost seems to cooperate. Perhaps a plant can be trained?

If so, I may take the gag off even when not feeding it.

Authors, recognition and desperate free givaways.

Author’s love recognition from their, almost as much as they love making money from it. Cynics may say that is because they see recognition as a way of getting more money from their work, but well, cynics do have this annoying habit of being right, or almost right. For Pride (capitalised, as pride has to be Proud) is something almost as good as money – perhaps due to that swelling feeling that it engenders, making one full, like eating.

Regardless, of this, desperation desire to garner positive reviews is a good enough reason to make – for a few days, when I can – many of my ebooks free – and, as now is such a time, for five days you too can enjoy my wonderful writings (they must be good if I’m resorting to giving them away for nothing) at no damage to your wallet.

So, why not download, read, and if you enjoy the scribbled musings (or what to see how far my ego can inflate before it explodes like a whale stuffed with dynamite and FOOF) give it a positive review. I’m sure I’ll read it obsessively.

The UK Link, for those interested: : https://www.amazon.co.uk/Severely-Odd/e/B00OB4006U/