A tiny pessimist.

[whatho]

Today two small boys ran past me en route to their educational fortress. They were engaged in a race to the main gate.

The taller boy was leading by yards. The smaller boy puffed past me, trailing his arms. He muttered over and over again 'I'm going to lose. I'm going to lose.'

That's the spirit, my lad, I didn't quite say out loud.

Comments

[whatho.livejournal.com]

Mr Faceless? I don't quite know. He probably is that precise metaphor, but he's not a literary reference. He is merely something I doodled in the margin of my history exercise book during an A-level class on fascism in early 20th century history. Myself and the person I sat next to used to doodle comic figures and write bizarre things and then show them to one another in an attempt to make ourselves laugh out loud and get told off. We were such wags in those days.

[whatho.livejournal.com]

When I said early 20th century History, I meant Italy.

[aldenmacrae.livejournal.com]

Oh, what a darling!

I still find him inspirational, because at least he bothered to race the taller boy in the first place, instead of just thinking 'oh, why bother.'

[whatho.livejournal.com]

I love him completely. I hope he keeps running past me saying unconventionally inspirational things.

[jekesta]

Oh he is the best thing ever. Dude.

[whatho.livejournal.com]

He's wondrousness. If I see him again, I might have to contemplate stealing him slightly.