The Beauty of Delirium

"Actually I was regergitated from it." She said, as she stood, wiping some of the slime from her body.

"What?" I said.

"I was regurgitated; Thrown up, Puked, Gagged, Upchucked, Spit up, Urped, Boffed, Ralphed, Ejected."

"Alright, I get it! Jesus, are you insane?"

"Quite."

"What?"

"What?"

"Oh God."

"He's not here."

"Now you're just frustrating me."

"That's cause you're sane."

"How does that make sense?"

"See?" She said, pointing at me acusationally. "I'm completely bonkers, I'm never confused. Not once. Everything makes sense to me. That's the beauty of being wacko, nuts, Irrational, Loony, Mad, Rabid, Unhinged, Screwy, Schizophrenic, Fatuous (I don't like that one it sounds like Fat) Crazed, Batty, Irresponsible; but I really am! Paranoid, Preposterous, Psychopathic -"

"I think I'm going to kill myself."

"See I'd never do that, 'cause it makes no sense."

"It makes a lot of sense to me right now, you're totally-

"Flappy, Nuts, Frenzied-"

"Please! Girl! Stop!"

"Ok."

"Thank you."

"Bienvenue."

"What?"

"What?"

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be a long, long day.

The End

16 comments about this story Feed