As we all know, Terdoh is a sick, perverted, gay dude. And I don’t mean the happy kind. See, he wanted me to write about incest. Like, brothers and sisters playing mummy and daddy and such. Can you imagine? *sigh* But really. What is incest? I mean, doesn’t it depend on how we look at it? I could spend hours online looking for irrefutable evidence that everyone is related to everyone else (seeing as we all started with Adam and Eve), thus we are all guilty of incest. No? Well, I don’t rally have that much mental strength. We will not be discussing incest like the fellow wants. We will be discussing something more important than that. Things that keep me up at night. Lemme start by saying: I’m not an insomniac. WTF do you think an insomniac is? An insomniac is someone who has SERIOUS difficulty going to sleep and/or staying asleep AT ANY FRIGGING TIME OF THE DAY. Shit is ridiculous. The fact that I happen to be awake between the hours of 12am and 5am doesn’t make me an insomniac. No, it doesn’t. It means I have better shit to do than sleep. But you know what? Even that makes me more of an insomniac than most of you illiterates out there.
You can’t go to sleep at 10pm, manage to wake up before the sun rises, and then come on twitter to tweet ignorant shit like #TeamInsomnia. Ugh! The worst kind are the ones that even pretend they’ve been awake watching movies or reading (as if!) all the time they’ve been absent from the interwebs. I mean, come on! Really? If that isn’t stupid, I don’t know what is. If you are one of these people and you’re reading this now, you have been educated. Insomnia is not a condition you kid about, or turn into a characteristic of a coo keed. You’re welcome, dumbass.
Things that keep me up at night. How much space do I have to write? I mean, what’s my word limit? Meh. I’ll stop when I’m tired. I’ve been obsessed with nursery rhymes lately. I loved them so much when I was little, I had like a dozen tapes of rhymes and sing-a-longs and I had A LOT of books (even though they all contained most of the same content). But when we moved away, I lost it all (˘̩̩_˘̩̩̩ƪ) I didn’t know how to deal, so I forced myself to move on. It’s why my childhood was so incomplete 😦 Or is it?
Recently, on my blog I discussed nursery rhymes and how nursery-friendly they really are. The first post was really a spur of the moment thing, so, since then, I’ve tried to spend more time looking into it. I have failed on account of laziness ( -.- ) But fret not! I’m gonna throw another haphazard thought process your way. Because I love you, and I know how crushed you’ll be if I don’t give you something to read. Yeah. I’m awesome like that. Now. Who here doesn’t know ‘Rock-A-Bye Baby’? I refuse to believe there’s anyone who doesn’t. Still, for the sole purpose of chopping space, I’m gonna go ahead and put it here for all to see:
“Rock a bye baby on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, And down will come baby, cradle and all.“
You’ve known this as a lullaby for as long as you’ve known it, right? By now, you have to have asked yourself “da fuq kinda lullaby is this?”. If you haven’t, I suggest you re-evaluate your mental condition. Is this shit supposed to soothe a baby? Lull the defenceless creature to sleep? You’re basically telling the baby “Look, if you sleep, you will fall and die”. Am I right?! Or am I right? Who thought up this bright idea, anyway? I have to wonder if it started as some sort of joke. I mean, why would you even consider putting a baby’s cradle on top of A TREE. And then he/she didn’t stop there. Some wind has to come along and rock the cradle resting on the tree. Of course, the branch has to break, sending the innocent child crashing to his/her death 😦 I fail to understand how this is comforting. And it’s hard for me to think that parents who read this to their kids really have that child’s best interest at heart.
Think about it.
How possible is it that no parent has detected the violent undertone in this “lullaby”? They may be old, but they aren’t stupid. You probably pissed your dad off, and he just wanted to kill you. But he knew he couldn’t. So, he picked you up, held you in his arms, and started singing this shit to you and rocking.
Dude will be smiling being comforted by the thought of you falling from a tree, and you’ll be there thinking he loves you. *sigh* This life.
Terdoh wanted me to read some sort of sexual meaning into this, and I probably could have. But I didn’t. Why? Because I love you, even though we’ve never met, and I want you to know the truth. Here it is: If anyone, especially your parents, ever read or sang ‘Rock-A-Bye Baby’ to you as a child, you were unloved. Probably because you’re adopted. You should find out. You have a right to know.
Again, you’re welcome.