I have to tell you
the truth. I do not really ponder a lot. Thoughts in my brain do not form the
way they do in yours, I assume. You may find me squatting with a dramatic pensive
face, but I assure you, you have caught me: not thinking. You may wonder why, a
candid truth as this, do I speak to you about? Well, I had to tell you.
People think not a
lot and a lot less of pensive people these days. I did not want to be a part of
that brood. I stay far from the Pensive. They Scare ME man!
Apologies. Not to
the Pensive of course; but to you, because I have to admit, stuff below is a
product of some thought (might be ponderous, but I cannot be certain of that).
Please find below, the Product of Thought:
I have been into Wikipedia
since I got a job and took a desk. I have never found a place as interesting as
this web portal. I love it so much man, that the name reminds me of Greek Sex Goddesses.
I can almost imagine Goddess Wiki Pedia walking out of a smoky lake clad in smoky
silk. Ah! Those perfect perfections! MADNESS!
Well, my well
endowed lady fishes secrets from fathoms deep of infobullshit. (Did you know
that Ryan Seacrest is a practicing homosexual?!).
Anyhoo, yesterday,
it was revealed (she was in a special revelacious mood) that I share my
birthday with Syd Barrett! Yup. That Pink Floyd madman! The maniac on the
guitar! The gardener from Cambridge.
I was stunned! (I am
still a little shaky from the news, if you must know.). But!! Syd Fuckin
Barrett!!
This got me
thinking, the sharing birthday and stuff. Why in the world did he leave the
band? Why did the genius leave music? Did he really go bananas?
I have known people
who were mad. Some who were not so mad, but just madder than the others. Some
with a beard, some without. Some having a nonchalant conversation with nobody,
and some in rapt attention to the nobody. Some unsure of their loyalty to
madness, and some claiming to be possessed by epitomic madness. It is a jumbled
mess, this madness. You never know what to expect!
Syd was mad though.
I am almost certain. He was into drugs, wasnhe? Enough of stamp papers can
drive you crazy, (I have been told). Telgi flew half way across the world to
secure his stamps! Syd went to his mother’s farm in Cambridge. Utter Madness!
I have never been to
Cambridge; therefore I do not claim any authority over what madness in
Cambridge is. But Syd was fucking mad. He left the Pink Floyd. Who leaves the
Pink FLOYD? Anybody? Everybody? Nobody? Syd.
Are you crazy-to give
up Floyd for a backyard in Cambridge? Crazy to give them up for some green grass,
some dried Grass, some books and stash of cash to last a lifetime? Well I would
not know. I told you, did I not? I have never fuckin been to fuckin Cambridge.
Period Motherfucker!
I do not claim to
know madness. I am mad. I've always been mad; I know I've been mad, like
the most of us...very hard to explain why you're mad, even if you're not mad...
