Tuesday, 8 January 2008

Tiky the timebomb.

Honestly, looking back at what I've done and how far I've gone, I'd say I've done a lot of things on impulse. There was this time I tackled a girl to the ground in primary school, smoked a Marlboro red one rainy Sunday afternoon, read my sister's diary, jumped down a flight of stairs to see if I could land safely, when I couldn't...

Yeah. Real dumb things.cr

One might ask, with exasperation and gentle pleading,"Why, Tiky? Whyfore must thou subject thyself to such brute dumbassery? WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID, YOU FAT BASTARD?!"

Well, that's just it.

I have no clue.

It's almost as if there was some kind of invisible trigger mechanism deep inside my gut that goes BANG whenever something challenging my mortality comes my way, be it kicking the cat or dashing across the road before the green man even lights up. It's sort of like taking crack downed with Fanta and coffee. I GO LIKEA ROCKET GO SHOOOOOOM-SHOOOOOOOOM.

Then again, these periodic outbursts of random high-risk taking are just that - periodical. Or course, nobody knows for sure when they will pop up, but they can be detected with symptoms such as excessive jittering and loud exclamations of HAAAAAW SHYTE IMMA FEEEELIN' HIIIIIGH TODAAAAAAY! *gasping, choking noise*

So, do be on the lookout if you see an unnaturally happy Tiky bounding along the corridor, grinning dementedly at the walls.

It may just be the last thing you see.