Well, I am going to bed now. I used to suffer from insomnia. Now, I just canâ€™t sleep. I no longer suffer. Why, because I am not bored or obsessed with some stupid nuance of the day. Now I work in bed. No, I am not a prostitute. Get your mind out of the gutter. I am writing a book. Well not exactly. I havenâ€™t actually put anything to paper. But I am outlining a book in my head. It has sort of become a hobby, a bedtime hobby. I repeat, I am not a prostitute.
Now I have no delusions of grandeur. I never think I will publish a book. I just like the idea that I could write one if I needed to. Like if a terrorist held a gun to my head and said, â€œWrite a book or Iâ€™ll shoot.â€ That kind of scenario might sound scary to some, but I am prepared. I could do it. I just hope they never say write a good book, cause I am not that cleaver. But anyone who can read can write a *bad* novel. And I am anyone to someone.
So I am writing a novel, science fiction to be exact. I donâ€™t want to give away the plot, but letâ€™s just say Pentecostals could really come in handy in a first contact situation (especially if no one invents the universal translator, which they havenâ€™t).
So I am going to bed. Hopefully I will have trouble falling asleep. I have a lot of work to do.
Shundama-Ky! That means we come in peace. (GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER)