The Hours of Night by The Confused Man going into treatment, #7

The Hours of Night

by

The Confused Man going into treatment, #7

Confusion Reigns Supreme  #7

copyright 2013 David W Friesen, ImaginArtStudio

Confusion rules supreme.  And none so pasteurized, homogenized and castrosized as my imagination while in its infancy.  I have the dubious task of making my path seem invisible to my many, many  fans.  In fact, I think I have found the solution, just now.   Then at the same time I am sucked back again to the confusion that I so missed but know that I must leave behind.  Oh, if only I could leave it far, far behind, that would be my wish.

Lately, I must admit, I have been trying to convince you that I was not only suffering from living with only half of my meager, to say the least, brain.  My brain has become so meager that if someone were to ask it for directions to the other half of my brain, it would first have to sit and rest awhile and then realize that it had been sitting on it all along.  Then it would thank the one who ventured the question and drift off back to sleep and dream of thinking just once more before someone would put it out of its misery.

I fear that I have done it again.  What my original intentions were, is to slowly introduce you to my novel, and I say novel because it is so long.  "They" said I should tease the readers and create this artificial desire for more and more installments of my tale of fun and excitement that my readers  would be lined up waiting to have more, sort of like the way women wait in long lines at the ladies restroom for who knows what, but they do seem happier when they come out.  It is truly amazing comparing how squirmy and agitated they are while waiting in the line and they get more so the longer the line gets.   You would think that the more popular that thing is in the women's restroom the more the women would want it, which I guess is the case.  They really must be doing more than resting for you can hear them uttering an audible  AAHHHH!!!!!  Just before one sees them again.  I have seen some women go in and out of there three or four times in a matter of several hours.

Another term or name I have heard from passing women is bathroom.  I am pretty sure that they are not taking baths in there. First of all the room doesn't seem big enough to accommodate all those women who are waiting outside to get in.  And I never see any evidence of a bath, no towels, no set hair, no sandals and I never hear the hum of hair dryers.  I have never met a woman who can take a bath or shower without a hairdryer.  Then how could it be a bathroom?  How about calling it then a bathhouse.  I have just had a thought, please someone keep track of that, it truly doesn't happen that often.  What about calling it an"outhouse".  It is out and away from all the other houses, I wonder why?  And it looks like a little house.  This definitely needs more thought.    

If any of my female readers out there wish to comment on this mystery, please send me the answer.  Already I have received a request from one of my male readers to make a comment from his point of view. 

In order to be true to my directions from "they" I will give you the first letter of the first word of the"novel".  "T". 

Alright, have fun and I will see you next time.  David Freidman alias David Friesen alias Davie from the Crocket Davie's.  I promise to try to get out of my habit of using you to get rid of my confusion.  From a Recovering Confused Man, "oh the clarity is too bright out here".  Take it away, take it away!  END