Posted: July 19, 2012 by Harry Moonbeam in Early days yet...
Tags: , , , ,

The Boi’s had to rearrange everything ‘aat back’ in the warehouse since the new supplier delivered the new stock, and when I say new, I mean stuff even I ain’t never seen before. Who’d have thought it?

little boxes

It’s in which box?

What sort of ‘new’ stuff are you talking about?
Oh allsorts, we got some bizarre thoughts; random thoughts; popping questions; elephant’s memories; distopian dreams which were a bloody nightmare;  a shedload of ‘spatial awareness’ we’re having trouble
fitting in anywhere; oh, and some original thought.

I’d be interested in having a look at the original thought, could I?
No, I’m afraid not, you see, we couldn’t understand it
so no punter’s going to be able to, are they? It’s a poor seller, original thought, way ahead of its time. We’re going to have to store all that until it goes mainstream, then sell it off quickly or else the only thing it’s good for is old hat. We only do stuff for the inside of the head,
not the outside. So, you see our precarious situation.

You can’t return any of it?
I’ve lost enough money already, what with having to shell out for some deep containers for the philosophical thoughts they chucked in as well. You know.. I thought, therefore I was… no, it’s gone.

I don’t care, show me an original thought!
There’s some in that box by your feet.

Which one? This one?
No, not that one. In that one, the sky-blue thinking box.

Where, let me see!
No, the other blue! Don’t open that…

Aargh!! My hands are on fire, fingers of flames leaping like cobras at a rave party, spitting venom into my burning eyes, the sockets of which are dark and have no end. No end in sight, my vision is gone replaced with an awareness of everything in the fourth dimension, colours I’ve never seen before, sounds I’ve never tasted and smells I’ve never touched. Help me, help me before they suck the sky from my morning breath.
Yes, I’m sorry, that was a box of vivid imagination you opened there. We seem to have mislaid the original thought.

What about this leather travelling box with a handle on it: Utopian dream?
In an ideal world that would be the case, but someone seems to have put all the wrong labels on everything.

So where is the Utopian dream?
I suppose we’ll just have to keep on searching, won’t we.

mind clearance offer

Get your thoughts in order!

  1. Quite a concept and one I enjoyed reading about happily. If only such a warehouse existed…I wonder how many individuals would give up their most treasured possession simply for the chance of opening 1 box even if it was mislabeled. 🙂

    • The warehouse does exist, each of us has one.

      I believe every one of us thinks ‘the grass is greener…’ of course you’d open the box. Wouldn’t you?

      • Concept comprehended on a different level…I do open certain boxes, others are restrained with logger chains and reinforced locking mechanisms.

        I used to think that “the grass is greener”. Now, I believe the grass is only as green as you make it or allow it to be.

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