What is it with me and this new frenzy I'm going through? I seem to have been overcome by love for these animals. Sure, wolves are barbaric and can rip you to pieces if they have to. But there's something so special about them. They look so wise. Above all, they're so bloody cool! They are the ancestors of dogs...which probably make them all the more incredible. They have some sort of seriousness about them that's quite inexplicable. When they howl into the night, it sends shivers down your spine. Don't lie. You know it does. However brave you are. They're pretty quiet though, during the day. If you end up watching National Geographic or Animal Planet and you happen to see them, just keep watching. They're weirdly interesting. Maybe all of this is in my head, but I don't care. I'm still pretty sure that if I had a choice to be an animal for a day, heck, for my next life (if there is such a thing) then without hesitation I would chose a wolf!

Once in a while your friend comes inside the room and says 'hi' with a voice so hoarse and croaky you wonder if there's some sort of tractor running up and down his or her throat. It may even be you sometimes.. Personally I love sore throats. At least when I get one. You're probably thinking, "And I thought I'd heard everything..." and shaking your head... but it's true. I love sore throats... not because of the constant itchiness about your throat or the continuous coughing or the colourless or greenish-yellow phlegm that's coughed up. No, I love it because of the voice. I've always had this thing about hoarse voices...probaby being one of the reasons for the music I listen to or the guys a "check out" (I never liked that statement. Can't a girl stare at boys who look cute/hot and not be someone who's checking someone out? That's so...tacky!).

I usualy hate my voice.. Not when I speak but when I hear myself through a mic or a recording or a video.. I've always wondered if that's how I sound. I sound like a little baby.. Anyway. When I get a sore throat my voice becomes all velvety and different. Different most of the time is good. And good is great! Problem is when I want to sing (And I like singing so much more with a croaky voice.. yes, I'm...unique) I end up coughing and coughing up phlegm at that. (Picturesque isn't it?) But I've always wished I could get a croaky voice for life, without having to stop every two minutes to spray infection everywhere. Just a thought..

OK, so maybe I'm not the mischievous type. But you have to admit, being around mischievous people may seem irritating but deep down you know you're having fun. It's when the forced down part of you comes out, rearing its sniggering head. Everyone has a little mischief in them. Seeing someone use that character to its full use just prompts you to bring out your own little bit. Let's be honest here. Supposing you see some poor soul walking down the corridor and you see another shady looking person stick out his leg. Eventually, if the leg isn't seen the poor coul trips. You know you want to laugh, even if you feel bad for the guy. Mischief can also be called being 'troublesome'. But sometimes mischief is just plain fun.

In one's life there's sure to be a mischievous moment. At least one. Perhaps when you hid your classmate's lunch basket and watched with sadistic delight as he or she searched endlessly until you burst out laughing and showed him or her where you had hid it.

Or the time when you tortured your teacher with the help of your classmates as she sadly tried to keep you all quiet?

Or the time when the whole class pretended there wasn't a test that day so the poor teacher postponed it without her own knowledge.?

What about the time you pretended to be sick on a school day when you knew perfectly well that you were as free of diseases as a frog is of getting chikkun gunya? Your parents would've have cooed over you, telling you to sit back and relax and bunk the day of school. You would give an angelic, innocent, teary smile will inside it was one of satan.

Later, when you got a job and you placed a farting cushion on your boss's seat.. mischievous or not?

Well? Most readers would remember these times or anything related to it. And just the thought brings out little old mr.snickers out again doesn't it?

A star amidst a million moons,
A planet tries to sing the blues,
Neptune and Jupiter on a merry-go-round,
Venus and Mars make inappropriate sounds,
Saturn's dress tore at the seem,
These are the obvious signs of a dream.

The bin smells of wonderful candy,
Operas are oh so lively,
The dog delivered the post today,
An elephant came to church to pray,
The polar bears formed a baseball team,
These are the signs of a dream.

The pigs are taller than the trees,
The flowers blossomed into bees,
The leaves turn blue and begin to sing,
Swarovski crystals on a bird's wing,
Bamboo twigs grew some neem,
These are the signs of a dream.

Creepy, crawly, icky things,
Shoot out, bite, here comes the stings,
Vampires smiling from in their coffin,
The boogie monster ate your last muffin,
The werewolf's drool looks like brylcreem,
These are the signs of a dream.

There are always those blissful days when one takes up a nonsensical characteristic, which, mind you, most people ignore due to their die-hard belief that it is shameful to act a little crazy. To me, and probably many others, it feels like having a chocolate bath without the worry of being sticky later. Salvation maybe. Much like the feeling of going completely high and knowing you won't end up with a hangover. The appalling sensation of silliness, without a care in the world. That's the sort of idiocy that creates the feeling of a better world. A world of Hakuna Matata. It's on one of those days where you're sitting with your friends, feeling giggly (whether you're a male or a female. The male species seem to think it's a joke that they could even giggle if they wanted to, oh but trust me, you do. Even if it's for totally different reasons from the females. Reasons which we girls will never understand. Reasons being almost always related to thy sick, perverted minds). Or when you've just had a massive bar of chocolate (because we all know that chocolate makes the mind dawdle, stumble and eventually lead to blissful, muddled chaos). Or the afternoon mug of coffee, which gives you the bitter-sweet taste of the giggles. And of course, then comes the time of high-ness of a drunk man. (or woman. Let's be fair.) It's the time when you don't seem to be fretting about day to day problems for unexplainable reasons. Or the time when you're not worrying about the world coming to an end, the sky falling and the occasional worries of death and what it would be like. Or even the worries of being clumsy and to be strict about dignity and poise. Once put that way, you'd want to make every day one with happy, clumsy, silly thoughts, all swirling around you, recklessly. But unfortunately, once everyone wishes to be crazy, the world turns its pretty face to the lonely dumps to sit in a corner and cry. But this does not call for an immediate ban on craziness. Au contraire! The sensible people return to helping the world, while us happy fools sit back and relax.