Still Alive, Baby?

"..think not too little of oneself,
and fly thy kite where thou wish,
and dream thy dreams how high thou wouldst.."

Dear lonely isle,

• Just recently I found out that the job I was made for was to be a trained assassin.
• Hmm...me?
• Maybe if my employers were really keen on taking me in, and maybe if they really tortured me during workouts, who knows, I might not turn out half so bad after all.
• But perhaps I would be hired for the simple fact that I DO NOT look like an assassin at all.
• The best disguise would be to not be noticed I suppose.
  
• True, true.
• Everyone knows the fastest way to attract attention at night is to sneak around. It would be the equilvalent of banging two cymbals together and announcing at the top of your lungs why you're there and what're you going to do.
• Better to just calmly take a stroll and look as if you've every right as a free citizen to stroll wherever you damn bloody well please at any ungodly hour you want on any night you wish, nevermind that you happen to do it in front of a nuclear research centre or the National Bank.
• So for someone rather blur and tubby looking like me, just a blank stare would probably convince anyone of why I would be at any one place at any given time: I'm probably retarded.
• So perhaps if I can be trained to be a bit more agile, and to not flinch while firing a weapon, I might just be able to get the job done after all.
• Luckily, I'm not too queasy about dead people, so as long as they do not die in grotesque ways and have all their body parts on.
• Not too difficult right?
• But somehow that seems to be a rather distant and impossible dream.
• After all, how do you go about applying for the job?
• And if it so happens there was a place, what kind of resume would you send in?
• Perhaps a resume about how no one would give you a second glance.
• But what's the point if all the glamour's gone?
• Assassins are supposed to be mysterious, sleek, and above all, HOT.
• The only time I'm hot is when I'm sweating.
• Who knows? Maybe that's why I would be hired...

Let's just stick to medicine I think.
It's got dead bodies too.

love, joyce.