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Once upon a time I wished I was dead. Funny thing that, I think it might have worked. Heh. Or I was having a nightmare, or perhaps that hasn’t happened yet, and I end up dying because I wished I did, and then promptly would. Or promptly will.
Odd thing, I don’t really care about that thought you’re thinking, because I don’t know what that thought is, so go ahead and have it, I’m sure you’re entitled to your own thoughts, even if I’m not. Like a good boy I stopped those long since. Or did I now…? You probably know, but then again, you didn’t know about what was in my handbag did you?
I don’t have a handbag, and that’s why you didn’t know. I shall now snicker in a high pitched way. Imagine it as you will.