We’re All Mad Here. I’m Mad. You’re Mad.
It appears that my non-verbal exchange of communication with her reduce to nothing more than a conversation between the fictional Cheshire Cat and Alice (in Wonderland). Any act of engaging opinions, ideas, feelings and even the innocence number of a top up credit is to be considered vile attempt to debase her:
815595584623735x x is our month of anniversary minus 3 of you, me and [him]
I have no fucking idea what you mean. Not in the mood for riddles. If making fun and making me look like an idiot is your amusement, consider it done.
At first, an “intelligible” code with even agreeing “lucidity” and welcoming reply:
06 05 06 T2 07
05 06 H4 P1 4N
B3 R5 4R 13 BB
13 BB 2
You didn’t consider the last night hexadecimal code as cryptic attempt of ill repute but when I gave you a gift of credit, you act as if it’s an insult to your intelligence. It’s getting harder and harder to have a normal conversation without reminding myself that I need to explain my non-existent ulterior motive the next.
“Well, then, you see a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.”
Not mad crazy. I’m piss off. Livid, even the proverbial “grinning like a Cheshire Cat” would reduce to a frown. And still she may called it a mocking clownish frown with a circus act to perform, or even worst: as insidious as Joker (Batman). Her constant confrontation begs me to ask why do I even bother sucking up to her like [him]. I maybe effeminate, but nothing beat bitching and ranting than an urban frustrated 30 years old makcik, here’s quoting the Cosmopolitan girl:
Kepala ni rasa macam nak meletup. How do ppl manage to piss me off for 2 day straight? I’d like to think that I’m the type of person who can handle anger graciously. I hate confrontations and if i feel that I don’t need to explain/defend myself when I know I don’t need to, then I’ll just shut up. I mean seriously, you can look at me, and you can judge me for being the person that I am NOT. Do you think I care? I’m so used to being stared at. Sejak kecik lagi. No big deal man.
It’s insulting enough to summarize me as unreliable for your own profits. “Useless” in your own word, on that very day, where the celebration of financial revenue is more apt than a celebration of life itself.
Tgk bulan. Now.
It’s raining, the cloud blocked the moon. Sure enough it’s a mad, mad world you’re trying to tell me. And we’re living in it with straitjacket of deception in asylum of false security.
Answer to that so called “mocking riddle”:
12 – 3 = 9