Electronic memoir of a dysfunctional progressive

If this be a time of confessions then I must tell you upfront that I am in a precarious mood. I am glued to this monitor of mine without any protection. God help us should there occur any mishaps. In actual fact, now I see a small dysfunctional progressive dancing on my purple bag. How do I know she is dysfunctional and a progressive? I don’t.

I am in a state reminiscent of many ex-ones where I would write things that very few people understand. And I never really met anyone who understood them but I entertain the minute possibility that someone did.

Why do I put incomprehensible word puzzles down then? “Because I want to” is a cliché all too used. I put them down because I find them highly amusing and informative. This condition is somewhat like being placed inside a humungous balloon and trying all the time to jump up and touch its circular roof. You never really touch the roof, knowingly, because you are incapable of registering the success per se. Or perhaps you do touch the roof but since you have no “record” of touching roofs and you do not “know” what the roof feels like, because you have no other precedent to match it to, you remain unaware of your feat.

I will launch this entry as a pure experiment. I wish to learn of your interpretations of it, such an exchange of views, no matter how exotic they come, is always a pleasure.