Of all the things that interest me, the reactions of people with enough reactional attitudes to out of the world events from the parallel universe takes the cake. And what more, I create these events and put it forth to my listeners and reactors in the most normal tone, not over emphasizing, or making a big deal about the things I chose to propose. Somehow all the events I create, deprive the listener of his or her, most of the time, only asset and claim to fame. I make a psycho witch beg my man for his lush hair or have him shrink, or make my world’s most renowned writer’s status come badly in the way of our seven year ahead matrimonial due. By the way, I claim with a suggestive smile to know the exact solutions to these situations, that has never struck mankind, nor will it ever.
And then to make things more interesting inside for me and more annoying to the other I lay down rules like, the answer has to be clever, they had to have enough room for me to interpret and make more complicated situations, had to somehow end up with the man losing his most important element, or the second most or the third most or having a major alteration in his life that was by all means permanent.
To arrive at this, I would enlist all the positive aspects he was subject to by possessing the thing that a fragment of my imagination could concoct, just to drive home the point that he was, indeed in the middle of a crisis.
And in the most recent one went on these lines, apparently my writing skills take me to being the best writer, if that could happen, and my success knows no bounds. And among the consequences of being the most successfully brilliant writer in the world, my publisher doesn’t not permit me to marry the love of my life, to keep intact the quality in my writing. And as much as I hate it, I have to choose between my passion and my passion. So I conveniently propose to him the problem and lay down conditions of it having to be clever, providing room for interpretation and more misinterpretation. He almost sulked, giving me counter make believe situations including he being the world’s best guitarist and contemplating and executing suicide for the love of love.
I however very jadedly rejected and lost hope in him and thought himself worthy of a much milder situation, something which didn’t mentally torture him so much, something like what would he do if a little girl snatched an apple from him and ran away. I also thought him worthy of multiple options as answers to the situations such as, buy another apple or eat a fig.
Anyway I later between kisses told him that it the most clever answer to the situation would be if he became my publisher, because anything can be a given and thus anything can be a possibility. It then occurred to him that if I were the world’s best writer, and he was my publisher, he could dictate terms and among the terms can be his wedding vows to me.
And it occurred to me, I may not be the world’s best writer ever, still I have what it takes create and solve, thus being the world’s best nearly impossible situation creator and solver of the same.