Its a tricky, untamed beast the english language, a terrible beauty. Yes many prime examples of its self desctructive tendencies springing to mind. Situations that leave you screaming inside your head ''WHAT THE FUCK'', how in the name of Hamlet did a perfectly logical pre-formed sentence like ''Swedish people must have a fascination with sims'', materialize into just ''Swims''. Just swims. Not even '' fascination with swims'', just ''swims''. Leaving a cold empty pit in my mind. Why dont you love me brain? Why cant we just work together and display a reasonal amount of sanity and normality, do you not like the lovely english language? hmm? Why cant we all just be friends? Instead moments that could be imortalized FOREVER with one clever comment are destroyed as you are reduced to mumbling - conjoining freakish words together FOR NO APPARTENT REASON other than my brain turning into a vegtable due to excessive amounts of cartoons or residue from my pokemon days. (What happened in Doctor Who this week? blank - yet remembering what village Ash Ketchum is no problem.) This syndrom is contagious. Yup my father is reduced to ''Hey manderina'' and my mother thinks my cousin has bought a new ''blueberry phone'' with free music from ''Michael Bubbles'' on it. In a recent interview for a job i will never get due to my weird, nonsensical answers. It was all going swimmingly until she asked me to talk about myself- in my mind, i quickly prepared some fail proof guidelines. Just say art and music, dont use words with more than seven letters, DONT RAMBLE RANDOMLY. Which i did in the second sentence i started. In my mind i had two options, say '' i love art alot'' or ''i love art aload'' when the question of hobbies reared its head.In hindsight neither are great specimens of the english language but under pressure thats what i came up with. However,what i actually said was something along the lines of ''Art is aload, i mean, i love art alod''. Silence. Next question. ''Will you be relying on a lift?'' no, i reply my dad can drop me down or i can walk. okay not too bad. Next. ''What do you know about our company?''.
''Well'', I start giving the ol'brain time to warm up. thinkofsomethingcleverandappropriate. ''When i visited your previous stores-'' lie. ''I thought it was flabulousish'' <----- Karma smacking me in the face for my lie. She looked up, i looked at her rabbit-in-headlights. I felt like Claire in Heroes when she accidently used her previous name in the presence of Sylar,then he knew who she really was the freaky cheerleader who could regenerate. Obviously there are only minor similarities in these to anecdotes but in the same way Sylar saw the superhuman cheerleader and wanted to steal her brain, this woman saw a crack in my adopted persona and now she saw a glimmer of the crazy word conjoiner underneath. The rest of the interview was a subconscious blur, something about black clothes, a garden centre and comfortable shoes and then it was over. It was like a distant memory but the cold emptiness of failure was unmistakeable. Maybe i'll never be employed. *Sigh* Whether or not there is a cure for this...thing i dont know but my previous life of Hollyoaks, weird Austrialian daytime childerns programes and various ''mon'' programes (pokemon, digimon, yugimon? it was called yugimon wasnt it?) have limited my current brain space to very little since it still retains the information from my youth i.e (again - i cant stop i still know all this useless stuff) what squirtle evolves into. There should be a post soon on the subject of a suffer of this.....tendency to conjoin words and invent their own....... Well on that note im going to watch Ferris Bueller and eat ice-cream.