Dana W. - 7/28/2008 4:56 PM ET
I thought that you were the hunted not the hunter and it was so funny to realize that you were talking a fly. I can totally relate!
There it sits, looking, thinking, and laughing. As it ponders its next move, it is amused by my helplessness. It knows its only reason for existence is to keep me at bay in aggravation of my shortcomings. The very fact that it is alive is an attest to my weakness. Here it comes again, for another round. It is graceful in its movement, slightly slower that the eye. It makes its dive with the sole intent to devour the very pride which distinguishes me as a man. I swing my smashing weapon, with force enough to squeeze every ounce of like from my enemy, should I connect. Once again, I have missed. Once again it rests itself, just out of my reach, to joyously observe as I approach the limits of my own sanity. It watches with awesome delight while I exert my rage upon the surrounds me. As it approaches yet again for another attack, its harmonious battle cry rings in my ear, with the lone purpose of penetrating my already weakened walls of reason. This time, it is too zealous in its mockery of my loose grip on reality, surpassing the boundaries which protect it from my wrath. With the distinct realization that this is likely my last chance of ending the agony which it imposes upon me, I strike with conviction. With that strike, I have finally conquered it, ending the threat which it poses upon me. As the last essence of life oozes from its broken form, I dance the dance of a warrior who has deluded into the depths of his soul to summon the strength which will enable him to meet the challenge of a worthy opponent and merge victorious. With that past me, I dispose of the carcass which remains of my villainous adversary. Now that damn fly will never bother me again! |
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