Should we dive into a of this story or explore a different style of narration?
Woody sat in the velvet seat of the theater, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. On the screen, a giant breast was terrorizing a countryside. He sighed. This was exactly how his brain felt on a Tuesday.
"It’s a metaphor," he whispered to his date, who was busy trying to find a dropped popcorn kernel. "Life is just one big, oversized biological mystery that we're all trying to outrun."
Woody stood up. "No, this is the intermission of the human soul! We are currently between the desire for answers and the realization that the questions were phrased poorly!"
He sat back down, satisfied. His date finally found the popcorn kernel. She looked at him, then at the blank screen, then back at him.
Woody smiled, a nervous, twitchy sort of grin. "That’s the secret. The more you know, the less anything makes sense. It’s the only way to stay sane in a world that’s basically a series of sketches written by a caffeinated deity."
The film flickered back to life. A man in a sheep costume appeared. Woody leaned in, captivated. He didn't have the answers, but he certainly had the dialogue.
"You know," she said, "for someone who claims to know everything about the subject, you seem remarkably confused."
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Should we dive into a of this story or explore a different style of narration?
Woody sat in the velvet seat of the theater, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. On the screen, a giant breast was terrorizing a countryside. He sighed. This was exactly how his brain felt on a Tuesday.
"It’s a metaphor," he whispered to his date, who was busy trying to find a dropped popcorn kernel. "Life is just one big, oversized biological mystery that we're all trying to outrun." 6.6Everything You Always Wanted to Know About S...
Woody stood up. "No, this is the intermission of the human soul! We are currently between the desire for answers and the realization that the questions were phrased poorly!"
He sat back down, satisfied. His date finally found the popcorn kernel. She looked at him, then at the blank screen, then back at him. Should we dive into a of this story
Woody smiled, a nervous, twitchy sort of grin. "That’s the secret. The more you know, the less anything makes sense. It’s the only way to stay sane in a world that’s basically a series of sketches written by a caffeinated deity."
The film flickered back to life. A man in a sheep costume appeared. Woody leaned in, captivated. He didn't have the answers, but he certainly had the dialogue. He sighed
"You know," she said, "for someone who claims to know everything about the subject, you seem remarkably confused."
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