Tele-Bivision

Bright colours, cause me pain. They hit me right between the eyes like love bullets. My eyes start to water. I can't keep on looking at them anymore. The need to turn around and face myself away from the colours become very evident. But instead of turning around, I just pull my throne a bit closer to the fountain of bright colours. I stare at them. A poison, the poison starts to lull my brain. The colours stack themselves inside my brain like empty boxes of mayonise pizza, which smell of cheesy delinquency. Overload. The alarm screams out. But I pay no heed to it. I sit, I stare. I see waves. colouful waves. non-colourful waves. I see grainy, sandy, dirty ants climbing up my cheek and entering my eyes, the shortest way to my brain. I see waving hands, waving legs, waving faces, waving waves. The waves seem to arrive from no where and end nowhere. Waves. Static waves. Gasoline rainbowed hands start to dance before me. They dance seductively.  They try to hypnotise me. Suddenly the barricade unclogs. And the flow of unimportant data crosses my limit of insanity. Enough. I grab the remote, and switch off the television.

umm... my television has gone bonkers and this is my reaction to the nuisance he is causing. Damn You!.