Under The Rug

As I sat in my recliner and read one of my favorite books, I heard something move underneath my feet. I was curious of to what it was, so I got out of my chair, and began to walk around. There was nothing on the rug, nor under it. “What? What’s going on?”  I was utterly confused, so I began walking around my living room, only to see more of nothing.

“Maybe I just heard something? Maybe it was just the feeling of leaning back in my recliner.”
After I had made my assumption, I tried to forget about the whole thing and I went into the kitchen to make a snack. After I came back out, I went back to my chair to resume my reading, while at the same time, enjoy the snack I just made.

Later that night, as I went to fall asleep, there came a big noise. I rushed out of my bed to see what was the matter for such a loud bang, but once again, I searched my entire house, and there was nothing different. Nothing at all. All things remained the same.  Nothing was messed up. Everything was just as organized in my house as it was when I went to bed.

“Was this all in my head? “ I questioned just about everything that happened that evening.
Morning came along, and I thought about what had happened the night before, but I couldn’t remember whether it was a dream, or if it was real.

I questioned myself, once again, and came to the conclusion that all I was thinking about was that the whole thing was a dream, because after I had fallen asleep, that was what I was thinking.
I don’t think it was too realistic. So, I concluded that everything that had happened was a dream.

Until something happened again, later that night.
I was eating some popcorn while I watched T.V, and leaned back in my recliner.
I was really into what I was watching, so I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings.

Although, from the corner of my eye, I saw my lamp shade move.
“Oh, just leave it”  I thought. “It’s probably just my imagination. I’m thinking about all of this way too much”  So, I continued watching my show, and I tried to ignore my surroundings. When suddenly....
*BOOM!*
“What was that?! This is horrible! I cannot enjoy a second of my spare time without being interrupted. I’m just going to have to leave.”
So that night, I left to a hotel, only to enjoy some of my spare time. When, of course...I went to bed, but I could not sleep. I heard another bang. “Okay, am I being stalked? Is this some kind of joke?”
So, I got my things together and went home and decided to ignore anything that was going to happen.
Once I reached my home, I walked inside and climbed into my bed. The house was quiet. I was  finally at peace. I fell asleep quickly. Everything was perfect. I was all snug in my bed, the house was quiet, and I thought nothing, I repeat NOTHING could go wrong. I decided that I wasn’t going to let anything bug me. And here I felt so independent.
Until, suddenly there was not only a bang, but I heard glass break. I ran out into my living room where I thought I saw my lamp lie on the ground shattered into pieces. “That was my favorite lamp, too! What am I going to do about all of this nonsense?!” I felt furious. I decided to just ignore all of the commotion and go back to bed like I had decided in the first place.

The next morning, I woke up to go clean what I thought was my shattered lamp. “Wait, what? Hold on a second. What is going on?”
The lamp sat still in its place. Nothing around the area was harmed. There was no mess to clean up, nothing was out of place, and everything was perfect. I was MAJORLY confused now.

I grabbed my brief case, and headed out to work.
When I approached work, everything seemed like it wanted to harm me.
I was looked at strangely, and I had no idea why.

Well, when the time approached to go home, I sat back once again in my recliner.
I watched a full hour of T.V with no interruptions. “Hm. This is quite the night. Nothing has gone wrong! What a day!”
But of course....
Something was moving under my chair. “Get out! Get out!” I screamed.
I got out of my chair, and grabbed another chair to smash whatever “it” was, with.
But it disappeared.  “That’s it! I’m going to the doctor! SOMETHING is up. I’ve had enough already!”

So, here I was in the doctors office, wondering what was wrong. “Well...” The doctor said, “It seems to me that you have a severe case of schizophrenia.”
“What’s schizophrenia?”  I wondered.
Just then, I decided to ask, but the doctor had left the room to grab something.

So, I turned around and said....”Hey, bob! What’s? Schizophrenia?”

Why I don't Write Poetry

Poetry is hard to write. Sometimes, it takes me all night!
In many ways, at many times, I find it hard to come up with good rhymes.
Most of the time, my rhymes sound quite pathetic, but like I've said, I'm not very poetic.
When I write poems, I don't find it easy. They always turn out way too cheesy.

Whether poems are inspirational, boring, cheesy, or creepy, they still make many people weepy.
That is one of the things I never understood about poems. Why do they make people cry?
Why do they rhyme? Well, not all poems rhyme.
Poems aren't even worth crying over.

If someone were to approach you and say "Why are you crying?"
How would you respond? "I just read really inspirational words that rhymed at the end of every sentence."
Well, then again, I guess it just depends on what the poem says. But still, you get me, right?

You see this? I've lost my cheesy touch. I thought I was doing pretty good with the whole rhyming thing. I was doing alright, until I couldn't think of something that tied in with that sentence and something that rhymed with cry.

Oh, I know so many things that rhyme with "cry". I just didn't think of something that rhymed with "cry" and tied into the sentence. Nor did I have the urge to continue the poem.

This is why I don't write poems. I get side-tracked and think about writing something that actually DOES interest me.

Many people try starting out with "Roses are Red, Violets are blue..."
Anyone can think of a poem when they start out like that. Watch, give me about 2 seconds.
Here we go...

Roses are red, violets are blue, some poems rhyme, but not this one.
Well, there I go again. My failed attempt at writing poems increases once again. Dang it. Well, I guess anyone besides me can think of better poems that actually rhyme.

"No more rhyming and I mean it!
-Anybody want a peanut?"