Heather wheezed heavily.
"The only thing I ever suffer from now is a teeny-weeny bit of eczema. If it flares up, I sit back, take a deep breath, meditate and go back to my childhood to overcome the root fear - the hand-knitted, bright yellow Aran coat my grandmother used to make me wear,” Heather smiled at me like I should understand her verbal gibberish. “I didn't ever like the coat; it made me stand out like a belisha beacon in the playground - especially at a time when everyone else was wearing nice serene blues and greens - so, without knowing it, I developed a huge mental block, which in turn provoked a stress-induced skin reaction. Once I had realised - with the help of this little book, of course - where it had all stemmed from, I simply concentrated my energy on removing my block against Aran wool! You see, I'm wearing an Aran wool jumper now! No tingles, no itchy scratches - nothing! Isn't that just totally... "
"Amazing, Heather." I really did try my best to sound astounded by the whole sequence of events, but my efforts were obviously way below par.
Later that day Heather's freaky 'life partner', Michael, `phoned to tell me that due to my uncalled for cynicism, Heather had broken out in really bad eczema, and he was just letting me know in case I wanted to clear my karma. He had put down the receiver before I managed to tell him she had been the one wearing a bloody stupid Aran jumper and had either of them considered she may just be allergic to it; end of?
Now, as far as I was concerned, I had not lived long enough to be that cynical, but, with this kind of thing happening at least once or twice a week, I began to think is it me or is it them? Am I being particular hypersensitive, or have all the people I know turned into loonies? Am I a hard faced cow, or am I so over-emotional I project it onto other people? Well, since then, nothing has really changed. I'm not that much older and not much more cynical, either. So, now, maybe you get where I am coming from?
"Miracles, I guess, still happen now and then..." states the next few lines of the song. Well, it would be a miracle to find out some answers to my eternal questions...is it me and who the hell am I anyway?
I know my own personal history, obviously. I know where I have been - some of it not very inspirational - and I know where I am at just now. However, I do not know where I will be in the future. Nobody knows for sure where they will be, but at least some seem to have a vague idea - career, money, holidays, cars, mortgage, the inevitable two point five screamers - but as for me, I have not a clue. People are always telling me I'm such a funny person, always cracking jokes and constantly at the centre of everyone's attention span. I say, the funniest ones are the loneliest.
Yes, I was that kid in your class at school - not the cheeky one, but the funny, quirky one. The one that everyone said was so silly; the one with all the dumb card tricks, fake blood and plastic spiders; the one that laughed uncontrollably if someone fell over, and then stuck a spare Mr. Men plaster on the cut, and made sure they were better by pulling funny faces; the one that scuffed through the autumn leaves; the one that had millions of pals, but never a true friend; the one who always walked home alone.
Well, this is it. This is the real, new beginning of my quest - the quest to find out who I really am, and you're with me all the way, buddy! That is as long as you do not get bored - but then, no-one thinks my life is boring, do they?
As I stated before, "Welcome to my world..."
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