Jungle Journal, by Thomas Scott Daly, 9-03-2006
Things have begun to turn screwy. I may have gotten into the isolation a
bit too much, or my dogs have been playing mind games on me, I don’t
know. I do suspect, however, something is amiss.
I get the feeling people are as happy to see me as I am them, which is to say,
not much. Where has it all gone wrong? I used to like people, and some of
them, me. Little by little I’ve weaned myself off em, but now wonder why. Oh
yeah, I remember; they are largely, and on the most part, despicable. It is
depressing that I am one, and that so many are so unfortunately dissimilar to
me at the same time.
I remember laughing and conversing happily with people not so long ago, yet
it seems impossible now. I must give it a try again, soon. Soon as I need
something, meanwhile, I’ll keep the company of dogs. They are without guile,
and hang on my every word, as if hearing The Gospel spewing from the
melliferous mouth of a prophet. The Muttly Crew presides among the faithful
few.
I do have to be carefully succinct; they tend to take things too literally.
Thankfully, I have the internet; e-mail, the web-site, chat, poker, etc. Without,
I may have had to keep my social skills tuned in lieu of my typing skills, which
are a mean bunch to be sure.
It’s light out now, nothing remains of the night before but a sad dull pain and a
greasy scum fuzzing my vision. Sadly, this is all I have to show for it; a
pathetic offering tucked in amongst more of it’s kind.
Thomas Scott Daly
Things have begun to turn screwy. I may have gotten into the isolation a
bit too much, or my dogs have been playing mind games on me, I don’t
know. I do suspect, however, something is amiss.
I get the feeling people are as happy to see me as I am them, which is to say,
not much. Where has it all gone wrong? I used to like people, and some of
them, me. Little by little I’ve weaned myself off em, but now wonder why. Oh
yeah, I remember; they are largely, and on the most part, despicable. It is
depressing that I am one, and that so many are so unfortunately dissimilar to
me at the same time.
I remember laughing and conversing happily with people not so long ago, yet
it seems impossible now. I must give it a try again, soon. Soon as I need
something, meanwhile, I’ll keep the company of dogs. They are without guile,
and hang on my every word, as if hearing The Gospel spewing from the
melliferous mouth of a prophet. The Muttly Crew presides among the faithful
few.
I do have to be carefully succinct; they tend to take things too literally.
Thankfully, I have the internet; e-mail, the web-site, chat, poker, etc. Without,
I may have had to keep my social skills tuned in lieu of my typing skills, which
are a mean bunch to be sure.
It’s light out now, nothing remains of the night before but a sad dull pain and a
greasy scum fuzzing my vision. Sadly, this is all I have to show for it; a
pathetic offering tucked in amongst more of it’s kind.
Thomas Scott Daly
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Costa Rica Stories, Jungle Journal, by tsdaly,
Thomas Scott Daly, things are turning screwy,
09-03-2006
Thomas Scott Daly, things are turning screwy,
09-03-2006