Chapter 2 - The Plot Thickens!

Ok, things are well underway now. The time approaches for departure which looks to be only a few miniscule months away. Not very much time in the scheme of things, but an eternity away when you consider exactly how much you want to be somewhere. (Or exactly how much I want to be there at any rates, which is a whole damn heap.) So now we head to my bedroom for the side of organizing that can be the most cruel part of preparing for a trip. And this horrible exercise is Rationalizing the Amount of Crap That We Are Holding Onto.

So far this exercise is travelling along nicely. But it doesn't make the task any easier. Joining the rubbish pile is a sizable collection of the old paper bus tickets that were issued between 1997 and 1999 (when they switched over to updated MetCard system (in Melbourne) This is the dialog concerning the items in question.

Matvei: So they aren't worth anything?
Governing Domestic Overseer: Are they unstamped?
Matvei: No
Governing Domestic Overseer: Are they special edition?
Matvei: No
Governing Domestic Overseer: Is there anything significant about them?
Matvei: No.
Governing Domestic Overseer: There, you've answered your first question.
Matvei: Blast.

The tickets found their way into the bin 30 seconds later. It was difficult to see them go. There was so many of them. Why had I kept them?? Meh. Obviously to make things more difficult for myself when this inevitable day finally arrived.

Numerous notebooks full of nonsensicon and mindless banter surfaced. I had forgotten all about them but when I read the words, even after this amount of time, I almost felt that I had just written them. The only exception to this was the poem that I am to paste below. I cannot even remember how I came to write something like this. Not remember actually writing it.

"As we hit the ground, we didn't make a sound,
But we knew they were looking around.
Is this even real, is this how I should feel?
Whatever the hell is the deal?
Where do we go, how will we know
Who will be the first to go?
What's done is done, now without a gun
All we can do is run.
But if we die, they will want to know why,
Nobody got to say goodbye.
We all have the drive, but can we stay alive
to live is a reason to strive.
On this night, all the people in sight
Will all take orders and fight.
Keep runnign Jack, no time to turn back,
run where the night turns us black.
Tis not for gold, that we become bold,
but to go against all we've been told.
When we all tire, and situations turn dire
we'll call on the strength of our fire.
At the end of the day, they will all pay,
and peace will be here to stay."

Just then I have thought of a fitting name for the rationalization procedure. THe Rationalist Purges. I am on the Road to Rationalization. SO watch out Irrationalists. Beware icons of Irrationality. For when the purge comes to your village, In one hand i will wield the Hammer of Rationality, and in the other, the Sickle of Impatience. THe first Two Day Plan will be strictly adhered to.

To be continued......