Moody's Corner, Night of the Limerick

     The day had gone past and my classes had finished, though I still wore on my face the faint hints of a grimace. All my classes most useless had utterly failed to give my IQ any sign of a swell, so it's easy to see through my good humor and smiles that deep down inside, I felt I'd been running for miles. My conscious was spent and my memory floundered, but the clock struck again, 5 PM, on the hour. It was time to get moving with my tasks of the night, but then walked in the door, grave distraction, a welcome sight. Come on over she says, we have food on the table, well my tummy had rumbled... Must refuse! ... Still unable. Out again I left the flat with such weight on my shoulders, my text books had taken to mimicking boulders, though not in the common sense, all gray and scratched up, but more of a... Oh forget it, to dinner I sup. The noodles were made with such tenderness, love, and care, that I almost forgot a quiz, due at 11. Do I dare to take just 15 more minutes of such precious, fleeting time to remove from my mind the residue of this grime coating every nook and crevice of what I've become in attempt at nostalgia? No I can't... Then succumbing to foolish temptation I flee, to that land of fables, somehow none involving me.

     Thinking back now I can barely grasp at a wisp, of a memory whose details are vague, but its feeling quite crisp; of a period when things had been so much more simple, each crease in my face just tracing the dimples of smiles and laughs - once so easily found - now require the nose of a well trained blood-hound...

     Quickly waking myself from the poor revery that had my mind looped on the course of self pity I realize my mistake, more than mere moments too late, racing to call and cancel the date, set far in advance by a mind optimistic, now faded, jaded, sad, and sadistic.

Anyway it blows over fine, and none have remorse for my low, social crime. Enough of that now, I still have tonight to work my way through this perilous plight; caused in part by procrastination, though we heard that from Ian and we've all had enough of that, plus we're in agreement. But just because we grasp it, intellectually that is, our behavior unchanging, declining, still sickens. So down I sit right and pull out some homework, fast distracted by the interwebs, another perilous quirk. 

I pull out my phone and glance at the dial, already 1 in the morning, but there's time. Sweet denial...        Well everything's done but I've not quite completed the book on my shelf that I've so long been reading. I know that's it's late and I've class in the morning but the night has just started and the day is so boring. Forcing down thoughts of the life just outside I surpress all my wants and in covers I hide. The warmth over takes me as I drift into nothing, but right on the brink I conjure up something. A single run on so depressing and deep that it stirs me again from the coma of sleep. I thought I might share it, though normal flow it lacks, just hope this isn't you, sit back, and relax:

Should you happen to be possessed of a certain verbal acuity coupled with a relentless hair trigger humor and surface cheer spackling over a chronic melancholia and loneliness, a grotesque caricatured version of your deepest self which you trod out at the slightest provocation to an endearing and glib comic effect, thus rendering you the kind of fellow who is beloved by all yet loved by none, all of it to distract, however fleetingly, from the cold and dead-faced truth that with each passing year you face the unavoidable certainty of a solitary future in which you will perish one day while vainly attempting the heimlich maneuver on yourself over the back of a kitchen chair, then this confirmation that you have triumphed again and managed to gall yet another mark, except this time it was the one person you'd hoped might be immune to your ever creepier, side-shallow variation on adorable, even though you'd been launching this campaign weekly with a single minded concentration from day one, well it conjures up feelings that are best described as mixed, to say the least.

And with that horrible, never ending sentence I bid you adieu, hoping your night, like mine, is just about through. 

Night!

-Moody