Just recently I found myself feeling something, alien to any normal person. At least i suspect. Then again, i’ve become fairly convinced either i’m an alien, or everyone else is an alien and i’m the only human left, still not sure which way around that is. But anyway, back to my feeling… I felt a…thrill at the act of recycling. Fuck. What have i become? Next i’ll be hugging trees and chaining myself to them. The act of trying to perfectly crush the can into a big coin shape just felt great to me, I still haven’t perfected that. And no, i refuse to use a can crushing machine for I want to be the machine! *insert evil laugh here*
It’s not just recycling, it’s tidying. I won’t go as far as to say I enjoy the act of tidying, but i can’t seem to stop myself from tidying up anymore. I feel a bit like a dog chasing it’s tail, constantly chasing after the little things i’ve casually put down, shock horror OUT OF PLACE *insert horror themed voice over, with the words OUT OF PLACE zoomin in and out of the screen*
I’ve got to a point where ideally I’d have an empty flat with just a sofa and a bed, just so it looks tidy and spacious. Oh and the budgie can stay I guess, even if i am chasing her shitting arse everywhere….