Ma' Nature took me for quite an exhilarating ride last night. Mind you, "The Left's" highly irrational and apathetic lifestyle percludes him from being scared via traditional means. However that also leaves plenty of unorthodox avenues of approach to terrifying him. You see, what happened last night was nothing more than a thunderstorm that rapidly passed over my house. But it was an experience entirely new to me. I've lived in LA all my life, and I've heard the distant sound of thunder maybe twice. What I went through last night simply destroyed me emotionally.
It happened like this. I heard the first crack of thunder several minutes before there was any rain. I guess that was around 3am. I wasn't exactly asleep at the time, but I was drifting into that state where you're not really sure if you're awake either. I have never heard something quite as frightening as that first bolt. It was louder than anything I've been through, sure. But it also had a quality to it that lent itself to a massive explosion. Immediately after the sound died away, I literally braced myself for the coming nuclear shockwave that would inevitibly sweep away my life like so much kelp in a Pacific current. I shook my proverbial fist at this cruel twist of fate life sent me, and kissed my ass goodbye.
After Los Angeles wasn't obliterated by WMD's, I suppose I relaxed a little. But then things got really crazy, with flashes followed 2-7 seconds later by the booming and bassy thunder. Curling up in a fetal position in my bed and clasping my pillow tightly were about the only defenses I had. There was no escaping the dreadful sound. It was as if some sadistic puppetmaster had clogged my every orifice with an unbreakable shrowd of intimidation. It was completely irrational, I know. It wasn't even the nuclear aspect I feared. It was simply a rabid fear of the intense strength floating above my head, placed in a perspective I had neigh encountered.
I would have given anything to have another human close by to cling to. In the end, I suppose it was my prevalent sense of aloneness and longing as well as anything else that lent to my paranoia. For all its shortcomings, and for everything that I might say to the contrary... I will be frank with you just this once, and admit that the physical presence of human is an indispensible thing to my life.
You see, I've come to the understanding that the entire time I was curled up, it wasn't my preoccupation with dying alone that plunged me into my frenzy. Death is, after all, natural to the cycle of life.
I believe that it was rather the prospect of living alone that frightened me to my core.
-L
It happened like this. I heard the first crack of thunder several minutes before there was any rain. I guess that was around 3am. I wasn't exactly asleep at the time, but I was drifting into that state where you're not really sure if you're awake either. I have never heard something quite as frightening as that first bolt. It was louder than anything I've been through, sure. But it also had a quality to it that lent itself to a massive explosion. Immediately after the sound died away, I literally braced myself for the coming nuclear shockwave that would inevitibly sweep away my life like so much kelp in a Pacific current. I shook my proverbial fist at this cruel twist of fate life sent me, and kissed my ass goodbye.
After Los Angeles wasn't obliterated by WMD's, I suppose I relaxed a little. But then things got really crazy, with flashes followed 2-7 seconds later by the booming and bassy thunder. Curling up in a fetal position in my bed and clasping my pillow tightly were about the only defenses I had. There was no escaping the dreadful sound. It was as if some sadistic puppetmaster had clogged my every orifice with an unbreakable shrowd of intimidation. It was completely irrational, I know. It wasn't even the nuclear aspect I feared. It was simply a rabid fear of the intense strength floating above my head, placed in a perspective I had neigh encountered.
I would have given anything to have another human close by to cling to. In the end, I suppose it was my prevalent sense of aloneness and longing as well as anything else that lent to my paranoia. For all its shortcomings, and for everything that I might say to the contrary... I will be frank with you just this once, and admit that the physical presence of human is an indispensible thing to my life.
You see, I've come to the understanding that the entire time I was curled up, it wasn't my preoccupation with dying alone that plunged me into my frenzy. Death is, after all, natural to the cycle of life.
I believe that it was rather the prospect of living alone that frightened me to my core.
-L
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Everyone lives alone...