Well now I’ve got to write something stupid. Because the last thing I wrote was really serious.

Not pictured: us.

If you are averse to religious discussions, I warn you now, “Bible Verses Lie Ahead.” Not for the reason you usually see them thrown around, though. I’m not going to judge you here. In fact, being a fan of the Bible for what I see it to be, I strongly value the statement, “Judge not, lest ye be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.” Jesus (if that is Your real name...) said that in the King James Version of the Bible, Book of Matthew, Chapter 7, verse 2. There are countless translations, of course, take your pick.

We lost our little Jimmy.

Our little cockatiel.
She was the best little bird anybody could have ever had a deep and abiding friendship with.
Thirteen-and-a-half years with this little baby. She was our “Tiny Chicken.” We spoiled her like no bird has ever been spoiled.

When dusky and musky

Thresholdies do swain,

Two blombers all gwishy

To thromble their vein.

Those who over or under think things, often with the aid of or deficit in chemicals in the brain, say I and You hang out together purely at the discretion of the great We (which is a hilariously name for the aforementioned but as yet unproven everything…because it sounds like “wee”).

There was blood everywhere because, even though I am a vampire, I am a klutz.

Green is the color.

I’ve got no use for yellow most days. And, to be honest, orange generally repels me. I’ll walk away from a carrot unconsciously.

I love The Walking Dead for a lot of reasons. But here’s the reason I’m so loyal to it:

When I was nineteen years old, committed to the psych ward, sitting across from my first psychiatrist, Dr. Bolan, he explained it to me. He told me I had a panic disorder (a diagnosis that subsequent psychiatrists haven’t necessarily focused on but one that seems to encapsulate a big part of my problem). He compared my brain to a house with many rooms, all of which had a light switch to be turned on when something worried me. As he explained, most people can turn the light on and then, when it was no longer needed (i.e., the thing that worries you is gone), they can turn the light off. People with a panic disorder cannot turn the lights off once they get turned on.

Beware: Mushy stuff ahead. God stuff. Love stuff. This is what I feel.