So… little change. I really hate the sound of some things in Polish, that’s why I decided to switch into another, exceptionally brilliant language, which is English. I may not have anything more to say in English than in Polish, though I’m definitely more comfortable right now. This is much better that way. And also I didn’t feel like opening up to people who read this (about… two of them?) in Polish. I kind of don’t feel like opening up to anyone at all, so having this blog is pointless in a way, but I already have it so… yeah, I figured out that the only way not to write about me is to write about something else, and that’s the main reason why this is all going to be about the parboiled rice. A parboiled rice. There’s nothing, trust me, nothing more tasteless than a parboiled rice. Have you ever tried one? I mean, more than one, so you could actually feel you’re having anything in your mouth. Who would even want to produce that crap?! Seriously, not only nobody likes parboiled rice, it is also such a waste of sources and time and energy and also human resources – these people could work as chefs, social workers or paramedics as well, being simultaneously way more useful for the society. And then, obviously the most relevant issue – the waste of an actual rice. Do you know how those psychos produce the parboiled rice? There are many vitamins and minerals inside the bran of a regular rice, so they vacuum it to get rid of all of the air that it contains. So, basically, they dry it out. And then put it into a warm water, to make all the vitamins and minerals get out from the bran, but they want to keep those healthy substances inside of the grain, so they use air pressure to make that one possible. But this is not important, my point is so not the methods they use, but the fact that there could have been so many more ‘rices’ in the world! Because rice is good. Rice is so good that I could eat an unimaginable amounts of it. I eat so much rice that I wouldn’t be very surprised if one day I woke up as a Chinese little boy, working very hard every day, all day long for huge, ungrateful American companies, dreaming of the bowl of the rice he’s going to get as a payment at the end of the day… But until then – I’ll probably keep on having this terrible, terrible nightmares that one day I’ll wake up as a little Chinese boy who works very hard all day long for huge, ungrateful American companies, dreaming of the bowl of the rice he’s going to get at the end of the day as a payment, while he’s getting the bowl of freakin parboiled rice instead, every fucking day. Psyche consult needed in here. I’m seriously bothered by all this rice-thing, especially when my not exactly sane mom is filling me up with it, smiling widely, and saying it’s for my own benefit. For crying out loud, I’d rather drink like ten tones of this weird tea that tastes pretty much like pee (before you ask – no, I’ve never tried to taste my pee, or anyone else’s pee, that’s just my guess), but, for fuck’s sake, at least it has any taste at all! Parboiled rice has neither good nor a bad one, which sucks even more, believe me. So my advice – whatever you do – never eat parboiled rice. It’s pure shit.
A cause de lack of any good questions, that would be relevant in some way, I’m going to ask the one that is not relevant at all. Here it goes:
Why the fuck are we, people, so freaky? And dark and weird? I don’t even expect any answers, I’m just in the specific mood that makes me ask this question, because I’m getting sick, I mean really, mentally sick of being weird. And other people being weird. Too much weirdness hovering around.
God, this is so neurotic xD