“Regular radical, me radical or me out of my mind radical?"
I’m magically mightier, more Godly than God himself
Whose holy, hectic world is foolish and phony
Because I bear, the strange solutions
To all mystifying modern, medical mysteries.
Talented to, treat distressing diseases
With the superb support, of some serious vicodin
Each pill pulsing, pure sweetness similar to candy.
I devote my days, deliberately torturing my team
Warranting my worries, of wistful workers.
As my mediocre, day draws out
I flee foxily, from the Medical Mistress
Deeply disguised, in the darkness of the day
Slyly sleeping, silently in a relaxing room
Before she bothers, my beautiful florid fantasy
Controlling me with her conniving, chassis to secretly seduce me
Damn her dangerously, deep cut shirts and skintight skirts.
Nonetheless I nobly, accept this normality to prove her power as pathetic
And proving my power, as perpetual perfection.
Others view my vigorous, vitality and critique critically
As a stubborn stern, stooge; a beastly brute.
My cunning cane cruelly stomping down the corridor
Letting everyone learn of my lingering latency
That the, thriving genuine genius
Is purposely present, and promptly poised
And I’m radically ready for my routine rituals.
-Dr. Gregory House M.D
I’m magically mightier, more Godly than God himself
Whose holy, hectic world is foolish and phony
Because I bear, the strange solutions
To all mystifying modern, medical mysteries.
Talented to, treat distressing diseases
With the superb support, of some serious vicodin
Each pill pulsing, pure sweetness similar to candy.
I devote my days, deliberately torturing my team
Warranting my worries, of wistful workers.
As my mediocre, day draws out
I flee foxily, from the Medical Mistress
Deeply disguised, in the darkness of the day
Slyly sleeping, silently in a relaxing room
Before she bothers, my beautiful florid fantasy
Controlling me with her conniving, chassis to secretly seduce me
Damn her dangerously, deep cut shirts and skintight skirts.
Nonetheless I nobly, accept this normality to prove her power as pathetic
And proving my power, as perpetual perfection.
Others view my vigorous, vitality and critique critically
As a stubborn stern, stooge; a beastly brute.
My cunning cane cruelly stomping down the corridor
Letting everyone learn of my lingering latency
That the, thriving genuine genius
Is purposely present, and promptly poised
And I’m radically ready for my routine rituals.
-Dr. Gregory House M.D
Another Week went by.
Didn´t hear anything from Wilson or Cuddy or somebody else.
Dr. Travis and i went out for a walk. Today we talked about my childhood.
It was not easy talking about my Dad and Mum.
But i think we´ve had a good start at this chapter of my life.
There are often moments i´m jsut a little afraid about talking in this intimate way to Dr. Travis. Normally it´s Wilson i talk to like this. And there are many things he didn´t know yet like Dr. Travis.
My leg hurt a little when we were back. Emma brought me my pill and i swallowed it down.
I had some French Toast and two or three cups of coffee.
Frank had a girlfriend since three days. Her Name is Sally. She´s nice...for Frank. She had the Asperger syndrome, poor little girl.
So, this evening is damn boring. I played the guitar, listened to the singing birds outside, fighted with that Zombie-Bitch and.....
by tomorrow, ít knocks.
G.H.
(TBC)
Didn´t hear anything from Wilson or Cuddy or somebody else.
Dr. Travis and i went out for a walk. Today we talked about my childhood.
It was not easy talking about my Dad and Mum.
But i think we´ve had a good start at this chapter of my life.
There are often moments i´m jsut a little afraid about talking in this intimate way to Dr. Travis. Normally it´s Wilson i talk to like this. And there are many things he didn´t know yet like Dr. Travis.
My leg hurt a little when we were back. Emma brought me my pill and i swallowed it down.
I had some French Toast and two or three cups of coffee.
Frank had a girlfriend since three days. Her Name is Sally. She´s nice...for Frank. She had the Asperger syndrome, poor little girl.
So, this evening is damn boring. I played the guitar, listened to the singing birds outside, fighted with that Zombie-Bitch and.....
by tomorrow, ít knocks.
G.H.
(TBC)