Rantings and ravings

3

Dear you,

Sometimes, I wonder if our world is a mistake. Like me. I told She-who-shall-not-be-named this, but she yelled at me and told me to get off the phone. But that's okay; she hasn't been the same sine the accident.

Anyway, what if our world was like me; nobody expected it, it just happened. It was just squeezed out of a vagina, if earths mother has a vagina, (I would like to think that it does, or even a pouch if a vagina is unreachable) nine months after it was conceived.

I would like to think that everyone cried, and then earth cried and the walls cried and the sky cried. I would like to think that the earth went through stages, like when it started teething, or its preteen angst stage, or when it got that horrible haircut and all its friends made fun it it.

I suppose that it's far fetched, but Cara, my carer, told me that it could actually be true, and that we could all be little nits or fleas on the earth, like dandruff. I told her I didn't really like that idea, and she told me to eat my pills. And to stop saying vagina so loudly.

What's the problem with that word? Why is everyone so uncomfortable when I say it? Vagina vagina vagina. There, that wasn't to bad, was it? People are weird, and sometimes I'm really scared of them. And I think, sometimes, they're scared of me. Especially when I have my ravings. But that's another story for other time, sister. (I saw that 'sister' bit in a movie and wanted to try it out. I don't think I did it right. Sorry.)

Till death do us part,
Rosemund Pike