God's Unique Designs

I was just thinking, there are absolutely no new thoughts or ideas, even me saying this is so old it's boring. I mean where could this go? I can't get all moody and depressed, been done. I can't get all deep and artistic, so been done. There is absolutely no new way for me to express the way I'm feeling right now.

Except to say that there's an ant on my laptop. And I can't help but wonder what he's doing here?

Every single word or thought, that I'm thinking, which might seem so unique, is not. In any way. This is making me quite depressed. Quite repeatedly so.

So what's left? How are we supposed to continue feeling smart and funny and yes, enjoyed and sometimes a little superior? In a completely down to earth and humble way of course. I guess that's how I figured out it's very close to the end of the world.

Makes sense, doesn't it?

Think about it. You know how sometimes you see someone in the shop or on the street and you think my word that person looks familiar, it kind of looks like my friend Sarah, and then later that afternoon when you see Sarah, you're telling her all about the girl you saw who looked exactly like her, just a little uglier. You never tell someone you saw the better looking version of them...

And this is just here, in our town, our city, our country. There is nothing to tell us that the exact same thing is not happening in some absurd country a million miles away, or in Witbank...

So what happened, did God actually get a little stumped. I mean how many unique looks was He supposed to come up with. So I guess it kind of makes sense that the closer He's getting to closing shop, He's just saying: "Oh what the heck, how bout we put a little B Eyes with K Hair... What do you mean we've just done that one? Are you sure? Well just put this one in Australia, I'm sure they won't run into each other. What do you mean am I sure, of course I'm sure. I'm God!

The same goes with our thoughts and words and means of expressing ourselves. There couldn't possibly be one more new and unique creative idea out there? I think even all the boring combinations, which could actually be interesting, have been used up. Somehow I just don't think Peanut Butter and meat is going to take off anytime soon. So what is left, except being called crazy for trying different things, just for the sake of being different if you'll never get any acclaim for it. I mean who will really talk, for years to come, about the guy who invented the Spife, yip, the spoon which is also a knife... Some things just don't work.

So where does that leave us?

I guess we continue writing our repeated words, structured in a repeated order, and hope that at least you're the only person in that particular moment at that particular point in time, who is thinking those particular... oops, to late, someone caught up.

A Saturday and a dog.

I read something for the second time, which only made sense now, for the 1st time.

"But plans are one thing and fate another. When they coincide, success results. Yet success mustn't be considered the absolute. It is questionable, for that matter, whether success is an adequate response to life. Success can eliminate as many options as failure." - Tom Robbins

Actually this is not what I read, but found instead while searching for the first. Must be fate...

Why does this scare me so? To think I have to write something for someone? There is no one else! Until I say so. It is just me, the page, and the ringing phone which never stops.

Can you imagine how awesome it must have been to be there first? Although did they even know then? Did the first guy, or girl, maybe having a cool drink on a lonely, sporting Saturday afternoon, yes, saturdays are always, and have always been sporting, looking at the burnt remains of a pancake, think to herself ( I think it's clear at this point that it was a girl), if I could only flip the pancake over with something flatter than a spoon... Maybe if I fold this paper, no, flammable. Maybe if I bend the spoon a bit, so that the round part becomes a little flatter.

(Enter guy. Hey! This is my story, and I don't care if it's not feminist enough!) "Say, honey, come and bend this here spoon for me, I'll appreciate it an awful lot..." (Ok, perhaps this wasn't set on a ranch somewhere in the apparently smutty fifties, but still, my words...) So then in comes the big strong man, and out comes... the egg flip! Although that's probably not what happened, but still.

Imagine being that girl! Of course in her case, the guy probably took the credit and named the egg flip "Lil Billy's geenuous Invention" and sold it at every Ol Pop store in the county... But imagine her thinking back and going, I did that, first!

And the worst of all is, she had no idea that she was the first. For all she knew, somewhere on the other side of the world, some french guy was cooking with his "le flip" jip, that's the sum total of my french, leaning on all the stacked, packaged boxes, ready for their next shipment...

But there wasn't, and she was the first.

So imagine how she felt when she then found out, it was her. All her.