around the bend

I had an appointment with my shrink today.  I think most of you know by now that I'm certifiably crazy, and those of you that don't could've probably guessed it.

anyway, while he was making notes in my little folder that is reserved for writing down observations about my mental state, I peeked at his handwriting.

an indecipherable scrawl, he is a doctor after all.  

this indicates that he is secretive, closed-up and likes to keep his thoughts to himself and this is precisely how I perceive him to be.

aside from this, why can no doctor on the face of the planet write legibly?!  additionally they all seem to write identically, like old people.  I feel that in the case of geriatrics it is more a product of their education during a specific era, and less about being a complete jerk on purpose.  

It is possibly the most annoying thing about these bones and it makes me wonder if they practice the doctor chirography while in med school, like professional athletes fashion their autographs before going pro.  do they do this to hide their real notes from us in the event that we get our hands on these precious documents?  in all actuality do they say things like "this guy is a drug seeker" or "hypochondriac".  or worse, like "this lady is a complete cunt, give her whatever she wants and get her out quick!"  

The second quality I noticed was that his cuneiform slanted to the right.  allegedly this announces that he is outgoing, friendly, impulsive and emotionally open.  

My doc doesn't strike me as the enthusiastic party guy that this interpretation implies, but who knows what he does in his free time.
maybe he's a swinger.  maybe he goes to nightclubs and brings lesbians home to his wife so they can participate in bizarro sex rituals somehow involving safety words like "banana".

who knows... 

honestly I couldn't care less whether or not he is a sexual deviant.  I find him interesting, and somewhat unusual. 

I actually didn't like him at all when I first started seeing him.  he bugged me out and gave me the heebies.  his office is too bright and stark and there is an audible hum of light fixtures.  the ambiance messes with my eyes, giving me a mild case of tunnel vision and serious anxiety.

I squirm uncomfortably in the too-big armchair, avoiding eye contact, fidgeting and picking at my nails.

I hated my visits, but one day that changed.

I told him something or other, I don't remember what, and he simply replied that, "life can be perverse".

this struck me as one of the most brilliant things I've ever heard.  the morbid girl in me adhered to this statement with utter delight, and just like that, I found that I was beginning to like him on some strange level and could now tell him things that he would understand in a way that no one else could.  

I know this is his job, but I was impressed.  

secret robots govern thoughts

it has been raining a lot lately.

positively pouring.

torrential monsoons.

I love it.

in fact, I cannot get enough.  it is soooo soothing to me.  

the annoyance that this rain is causing most individuals only adds to my enjoyment.

the plink plink of the drops on rooftops, agitations of wind chimes, singing winds and hot coffee are absolutely delicious.

*swoon* 

on a totally separate note I feel I should mention my obsession with capitalizing the "I" in my writing.

as per my fainéant habits I long for the nonchalance of "i".

but I read somewhere that people who don't capitalize the "I" when referring to oneself, subconsciously do not respect themselves.

since this is most certainly not the case (at least I'd prefer it not to be) I will not allow myself to be lazy in this department.

so now you all know.

on another separate note, I am fascinated by the art of handwriting interpretation.  If you don't know what this is, let me enlighten you.

supposedly, there are psychological  markers secretly embedded in your handwriting that tell little stories about you. 

for example,

If your letters are straight up and down, it's a sign of someone who's ruled by the head, not the heart.

If your writing shows heavy pressure (like you can feel the rib made on the back of the paper), you are an agitated person that is prone to stress.

and if your letters tend to be close together, you are a closed off, secretive person that doesn't like to let people in.

I'm not sure how accurate these particular notes are, but once someone interpreted my handwriting.

he said he was just learning, that a woman was teaching him,

but his decoding was unquestionably fucking freaky.

he was so accurate.

he told me very specific things about myself that were so deep seated it was disturbing.

I began to panic a little.  There was no way I wanted this person to know these things about me and now there was no turning back.  it was too late.  he now knew personal things that no one else could possibly know but me, and I have to admit that it frightened me a little.

while I know little about this subtle art, I endeavor to one day pick it up as a new hobby.  it will be one of the many that I have delved into with gusto, only to abandon a week later after my interest has faded. but in that week I will read as many secret thoughts as I can in my friend's penmanship and use it against them if I ever need to manipulate them into doing something I want.  

I'll be able warp their brains into doing my bidding and then I will create an army of automatons to carry out ridiculous, menial tasks, such as bringing me a beer or doing my laundry.

I know this sounds ridiculous and totally unfair, 

but frankly scarlet, 

I don't give a damn.