I have no fucking idea what this is :-o

Ok. First of all, I have no fucking idea what this is all about, but you probably already got that from the title of this post. To cut a long story short, I "set out" to blog, and after sitting around for about an hour (with the odd porn clip thrown in) I suddenly remembered (dramatically of course, with appropriate Hitchcock style music playin in the background) that I have many unfinished unpublished posts, which I could publish. This one seems to be from three years back (:-o), and after reading it, it doth seem that I was (very) gay about three years back. However, that is besides the point. I have no fucking idea how I conceived this story would unfold. In fact, had I suffered head trauma and had my memory of the last three years wiped out, I can state with some certainty that one of two things would happen.

a) I would blame it on one my my currently gay friends who still can wield the ugly blade of flowery prose

b) I would actually know what the fuck I was thinking when i was writing this story, and hence probably know how this story was supposed to have ended

Reader must note that I do not quite know if memory wipeout reverts me to the state I was in three years ago, or leaves my state invariant and just erases my memory. But anyway. Help would be appreciated..

So here goes :

" It was a cold , damp, and oppressively still night. The air was thick with the sweet smell of death, as if death herself had descended on this barren wasteland ", He began. He had planned this for days. He hadnt written a blog entry for over a month.He had planned that he would write one starting exactly this way for days, in fact a week to this day to be precise, or "utterly precise" as he liked to say.He was happy, not to mention. He was, as we decent folk would say,
" a nice, dumb bloke" . He had an utterly maladroitly irritatingly unsettling habit of listening to the same song over and over and over again. He was, for instance playing "Zombies" for the fifth time today, and considering that the day was just two hours and sixteen minutes old, well, ladies and gentlemen, you have quite an achievement here. Anyway, back to his blog entry.

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"Nina glanced about herself furtively. She was a pale, a ghastly pale, and if she were to see herself in the state that she found herself , much to her own utter befuddlement , she would surely have a heartattack. It was beyond comprehension, at least beyond her comprehension. "

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" She was normal, as normal and unremarkable as a mass produced Japanese car. Till this moment that is, when even she could discern that her life had suddenly taken a totally inexplicable, but all pervading change . She was never overtly intellegent, in fact it would be fair to say that she had never said an intellegent thing in her life , but then she had never said a dumb thing in her life either.But she was intellegent enough to know there was something the matter with her. She was a sweet little spoilt girl. She knew that her mother was obnoxiously rich , and that she had absolutely nothing to worry about. Her father of course, was a Son Of a Bitch (and she had a fair idea of that too, though she never bothered to ask him to establish the authenticity of the aforesaid assertion). She had a , shall we say, a "life" , as is the fad to have nowadays . Why, There she was, just four hours ago it seemed, indulging in lascivious talk over luscious food with men as stupid as she herself was, and maybe as rich. She had gone back home from the party, content with life and whatever else she could content with, and had gone to sleep, happy with life, with the smile that this guy had flashed her, with the way that guy had looked at her. In short, she was a dumb , sweet bitch whose sole aim in life was to get laid by a handsome guy who had enough brains to help her from losing all her money."

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"Anyway,she had come back home, and being utterly exhausted from doing nothing, had gone straight to sleep. And then the next thing she could remember was that she had woken up on the cold bench in that park by the pond that her mother had forbidden her to play in as a child, on the pretext that it was where poor children played. In truth, however, it was a sense of dread that the park evoked in her , a strange and inexplicably eerie sense of dread , that prevented her from letting her daughter venture into that park. She could not explain it, and being a superstitous woman, did not make any attempts to, and simply forbade her daughter to play there. So her daughter never did. "

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"Her first reaction was one of utter shock, as it should be when the subject is not clinically insane, which she definitely wasnt.She had sat there with her mouth hanging like those ridiculous cartoons, for a good fifteen minutes or so. In fact it would be fair to say that if IT had happened in those fifteen minutes, she would definitely have died of the shock.