Rambling Along

Orange Juice, a fan, a candle, and a copy of "Water for Elephants". These are the relaxing friends that keep me company at the moment. Sadly, they accompany me inside of a not-so-relaxing place; my house. If I could choose to be somewhere else it would be inside of a coffee shop. A quaint business where the employees know who I am and what I want to drink. Glasses on, a book poised in my hands and the tinkling of dishes in my ear...That would be lovely.

But of course, I won't be inside of a dreamy coffee shop living my fanciful fantasy anytime soon. So I'll just sit here, reading and craving those wonderfully sweet-and-spicy peperoncinis (or Greek Peppers, if you're not fancy like me). 

At this point, I've gone brain-dead. I felt all insightful and intelligent while reading but then I just lose it. I should just try to release some anxiety about it.

LKSAJDLKJSADOWQIJKDFLDSNJJAKSJDLKJASDKJAWOIREJQWJEIODIASOIDA:I

Finger seizure. Works every time.

I took a short break from reading my great novel to research more about Chimerism in humans. Chimerism is a genetic defect where two embryos fuse together and go on to develop a person who has two different genetic make-ups in one body. Basically, a human chimera is someone who carries the DNA of two different people. What's creepy is that this "other person" could have been a twin or sibling who passed away in the womb, and you absorbed their DNA. Your dead sister could be living inside of you...watching...waiting... 

So in actuality, maybe I'm not a pessimistic douche. Perhaps I was once the sweetest and quietest little girl you'd ever met, but then my bastard ass evil twin started screwing with my DNA and made me into the stupid jerk I am today. Huh...I'll just use that as an excuse from now on.

What's that? I made a racist remark about you? No good sir, you've got it all wrong! It was my sister you see, her evil genetic soul inhabits my body and has a thing against black folks. No biggie.

...I see it working perfectly.

I don't think that Chimerism has anything to technically do with your mind itself (that's more MPD) but it sounds cooler to think of it that way. But I wonder...Being half black and half white myself, maybe I truly do have two racial sides. People like to equate my positive aspects with my white side and my negative ones with my black side (which is pretty racist when you think about it). Which, I still don't understand. When I get angry, I don't act like a black woman and start squabbling grammar-less nonsense. If anything, I'm a pissy cynical white guy when I'm angry. When I'm happy I don't really see a race in that. I'm just happy. But who knows, I may or may not be part of a dead black and/or white sister. 

I can feel the unsettling thoughts.

Since we're already on a disturbing topic, I might as well mention Alien Hand Syndrome. Yeah, I get it. "Wtf do you be reading Michelle?". I read often dammit, don't question what I happen to come across.

Anyway, AHS (Alien Hand Syndrome) is where a person's hand seems to act independently of its owner. For example, your hand could randomly grab things and throw them across the room without you having any control over it. So let's hope that your hand doesn't have a sense of humor anything like myself, because if I was a hand I would totally flip off that burly truck driver who just passed and then laugh in my hand-brain while you get your ass beat.

So yeah, people with this have had their hands do crazy shit. Your hand can even attack you. I really feel sorry for people with this syndrome, because that honestly has to suck. Imagine driving and your dickheaded hand decides to swerve your car the other way. Or even imagine your hand reaching into your swimming trunks at the family pool party and pulling out your junk for the whole family to see.

Yep. AHS sucks. And your hand is forever a troll.

In other news, I'd like to get back to my reading now. I have two novels to finish reading and another one to write. That is, if my evil dead sister doesn't just go ahead and take control of my body and go on an angry dead-fetus rampage.