For the benefit of impatient readers, who can't be bothered to read long screeds, I've asked Dr. Seuss to re-write my previous post as a poem.
Stop the world, I'd like to get off,
It's spinning so fast and I've had enough.
It's making me dizzy, I just can't keep up,
To this changing reality that makes me throw up.
An orange is an orange, a rose may be pink,
A dog is a dog, or so I would think.
But others tell me that I'm being mean,
To insist on reality instead of a dream.
They make up what's real when they don't like what's fact,
And pretend not to notice that their lives are an act.
"Don't be so close-minded, it's simply uncouth,
"Life's what you make of it, just like the truth."
"An orange is an apple, a dog is a cat,
"No rose can be pink." What's up with that?
I simply don't get it and I've had enough.
The word's simply crazy and I want to get off.
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