Girls who like boys who like boys to be girls.

This blog post was previously called "Fucking Symmetrical." But I liked both titles in equal amounts and in the end I opted for the title that had the most use of the word "like" because it's always good to like things.

Unless you like murdering!

Get ready for social commentary, because God knows I don't have anything interesting or profound to tell you. But maybe that's profound in itself. Or I hope it is, because I can't think of any jokes.

What if I was genie? Would you get your wish from me? Am I some sort of treasure in a cave or am I just waiting to twist your words and magically remove your hands or penis or both?

What if I was a boat? Would the captain go drown on my deck when I eventually sink? Or is he smarter than that, what if there's life for the thing that controls me, even after I sale head first into an iceberg because I bloody hate icebergs... those bastards.

What if I was an accordion? Don't play like that, man.

What if I was the next cow to die from foot and mouth? If I knew, would I make out with the hottest cow in the field just to spread the disease in the most rock and roll way I knew? Or would I do my duty as a cow and walk bravely into the voltage?

What if I was a door without a key or a field without a fence? Would you find another way out? Another way in? What about the closed book that I apparently am? It's not rocket science to open a book, is it?

What if I was a song that was about to end? It's never going to be like the first time you heard me. What if you know the words by heart and I'm overplayed? Am I a classic?

What if I was a librarian and a secretary’s son?

What if I was medicine? Why did you take me, was I needed? And why, because you need me to make you better? Or because you want me to make you a better person? Or you need me to make you feel normal. I hope I'm a pink pill like some of those painkillers, pink pills are so presentable, like radios.

What if I was God? Would I let you work it out for yourself because your ability to fuck up greatly outweighs my ability to guide you?

What if I was a dog? I'd be a husky. Mans best friend. Maybe I'd be a wolf. People are afraid of wolves. No one is afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt anyone but I'd love to see the look on their faces. Psych, I'm not really going to eat you. You can't say that as a human.

What if I was a scientist? Would I ever wonder why I didn't spend more time learning how to make techno beats instead of theorising on small chaotic reactiony things that no one can see? I'd probably remind myself that you can't see techno either and that the reaction to it is also chaotic. I'd probably be more techno than I first thought.

And what if I was a techno superstar. Oh wait, I already am! How embarrassing.

What if I was the weather? Would I warn you of the great flood? And how? You’d just complain about the rain you probably wouldn't notice the Morse code in the raindrops. "Build a fort of sandbags. Sorry about the damage".

What if I was the score? No, that's too abstract, it would be silly to say that my appearance and statistics change as the game goes on. The score doesn't lie either. That's not me.

What if I was running out of stuff to write and getting distracted because of a bite on my cheek? What if I wasn't really happy about the last 3 paragraphs? What if I wanted to write so much more but really lack the motivation?