Thus saith the Lord thy God: sell ye not vessels full of soft drinks, but barns full of coconuts; or how not to build chairs out of straws.
"A scattered dream that's like a far-off memory. A far-off memory that's like a scattered dream. I wanna line the pieces up—yours and mine."- Kingdom Hearts 2
"Alright, that's it." muttered Yayo to herself as she threw the playstation controller against the wall, "this is ass. Who wrote this crap? An overly sensitive monkey?" Yayo got up from her beanbag and turned the PS2 off. "I can come up with similar nonsense." Yayo mumbled. Yayo's eyes wandered across the room, until they stopped and were picked up by her. "I don't know why this keeps happening?" wondered Yayo as she put her eyeballs back into her eye-sockets, "one of these days I'll flex tape them to my head." Yayo knew that she had to stop taking everything literal, because that is not a good way to go about life. She did not care about that right now though, as she walked over to her orange desk with the tasteless yellow office chair made out of used straws. "In hindsight, this was not such a good idea." thought Yayo while she was testing the current stability of her self-made chair. Yayo has been really on edge lately, she is always on her final straw.
Yayo threw her featherweight chair, with which you can drink soda, into a corner of her room, and climbed onto the desk itself. She immediately found her notebook and began writing down some thoughts for great quotes. This is what she wrote:
A lou
The blue ball pen she was trying to write with had no ink left. Yayo's stared at the pen intensely, but had to realise after about 30 minutes, that this wasn't helping much, and the pen was still empty. "I see." said Yayo in an annoyed tone, "you want to do it the hard way, huh?" Having had enough of the pens stupid antics she threw the empty pen into the same corner where now a controller, a straw chair and writing utensils could be found. This made Yayo feel cornered so she tried to call her lawyer. He did not answer. "Stupid dumbass." Yayo, again, thought to herself, "he is probably mad because I phoned him 3400 times last week, asking for straws. That must have been his final straw." She was quite proud of that joke she just made, even though she stole it from the narrator. "Time for a new pen!" she exclaimed loudly, to nobody I might add.
Having finally acquired a new pen, she wrote:
A loud bird is sometimes a memory of a past life in which you heard the sound of a jenga tower falling on some blue clouds.
Nobody is born with a heart made of gold, because the heart is living within the shell of a clam that resides in the ocean of your feelings.
If you don't read a book, has it actually been written then?
Words are the life given to the smallest piece of paper in the wardrobe of human dreams of yesterdays hunt
...
This was enough. Yayo put her pen down and looked over her work. "Holy shit." she blurted out. Her eyes widened, an expression of horror crawled up her face. "I...I...." Yayo stuttered profoundly, "I forgot...forgot...
...the full stop at he end of the last sentence." Yayo's face turned into a smug visage as she grinned like a robber who just got away with stealing a snickers bar. Yayo kept looking smug for a couple of minutes, until she decided she was done and ended the story.