Why am I Chewing on my Knees?
Oftentimes I wonder, why AM I chewing on my knees? It's crazy, you
know. I've spent many a sleepless night pondering, just sitting here
and reflecting on this same question. (While I chew on my knees, of
course.) They're scary-looking now, like if I'd been scraping them
with a cheese grater. Some of the wounds are almost bone-deep. And
sometimes, I wonder why I don't chew on anything else, like, say my
arms for instance. Why don't I chew on those and give the multiple
mutilations on my knees a rest.? It's painful. Terribly painful. And
yet I don't stop. Oh, and this straight jacket? Boy is it tight. I
guess that answers the question of why I don't chew on my arms. This
sure is a dumb nut house. You'd think they'd give me kneepads or
something. Why won't they let me out? I just bite peoples' knees, I
mean COME ON! It's not like it's life-threatening to them or
something. They're such idiots! I'm sure some people would be glad to
let me chew on their knees every now and then. Stupid people. {Sigh}.
Since I don't have anything else to do, I guess I'll tell you my
story...
