He's in all of us. He knows our minds. He can see through our eyes. He's an outcast living in the inside - the ghost of society.
Enter the dark and tragic life of the lowly James Johnson as he trudges forward as an office drone in a boring textile...
Word of the day: Incongruous. Quite bizarre. Unexpectedly out of the ordinary.
Remember that weird man who keeps asking me to go to his party? Well, the next morning at work, as I was on my way down to fix someone's broken laptop, he popped out of nowhere (more like he just appeared to me on the fifth flight) and said,
"Do you want to come to my party? You're pretty!"
Stopping myself from taking one step too close to his crazy face, I said softly, "Stop calling me pretty. And no, I don't want to go to your party."
"You remind me of my mother. She was pretty."
I closed my mouth from replying. Oh. Okay. I wasn't sure if I was to take that as a compliment, or, I was indeed a very ugly looking man who was mistaken for a very ugly woman. The man must've taken after his mother because he was not very attractive either.
"Please, please, only a few will be there. We will have chips, Cola, and--,"
"No, thank you." I began making my way past him before he jammed the invitation into my pocket and scampered off, laughing wildly until his shrieking faded into the distance.
Sighing, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled the invitation out. It had been written on a brown recyclable napkin from the cafe upstairs. I rolled my eyes and read the chicken scratch on the folded inside:
U are corgeely invitd to joine my partie. 6pm 2nite at Walnut Street. thank you - elmer.
Poor Elmer. Not only could he not use the English language correctly, but he was desperate for friends. I wanted friends, too. But I knew better than to search for them. I wasn't one for starting up conversations, or making others feel comfortable, in fact, I feared my own existence made those who weren't uncomfortable in the beginning, now extremely uncomfortable. Just as I was an abstinence symbol -- the cycle of the human race would end if I was to just unbutton my top collar.
Tucking the napkin into my pocket, I continued down the stairs, wondering if I should make an appearance to the sad party. Maybe Elmer would leave me alone if I did. He was such a bizarre character that I feared that even if I did show my face, he would then try and make me his best friend. I couldn't be Elmer's friend. He was slightly loony and I was already trying to be normal -- he would only another ingredient to my own insanity.
But, I strive to be a nice person (even though nice people are taken advantage of, get the short end of the stick, forgotten only when they're not needed, and in general, sad people), therefore, I decided to go visit Elmer's incongruous party.
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