oh for your pathos and another theory of relativity

Do you ever wonder who is reeeeeallllly out there? Do the heavens hang as the sphere depicted in quelques paintings, draping about our shoulders with their million tiny stars, the fires that give hope to our souls and mourn with those that mourn and delight with those that delight? Will anyone notice if I eat this entire jar of nutela in one night? Are our worlds made up of a mosaic, each tile from a different source? One for the time mon père m'a partagé de sa connaissance, one tile for Don McLean singing of Vincent's eyes of china blue, another tile for Victor-Marie Hugo's belle poem Demain dès l'aube, a tile for ma mère rounding the corner and saying, "have you seen my orange-handled scissors," and one for the time she told me she wished I could paint in the sand for a week. And still more, others and others for all the bits and pieces I've read--I could go on for a velly velly lon time, you'd stop reading if you haven't already. So many tiles, a tile for you, and you, and you and you and yooo-ou.

Well, for whoever is out there making tiles, I would like to talk to you about homeostasis. Every creature is created to stay at a state of equilibrium. I heretofore will refer to you all as human buoys who bob and bounce and stay at a good level of not drowning most of the time.

Not going home for Thanksgiving? No worries, buoy up and eat more pie. Not working? Don't let your equilibrium esape you, just hit your yead against the wall a few times till a certain amount of cloudy confusion sets in and then make a wish on that turkey wishbone.

Single? Psh! What's so bad about that? Like I've always said, being single makes you more intelligent. Since you're having a Totinos pizza for one, you can read the dictionary or wikipedia or layout plays by Marlowe and Shakespeare side by side and you can form your own well-informed decision over whether the chicken or the egg came first.
Nextly, you can sample every fish in the sea and then throw them back without ever having to worry about global warming. Being single is like not having a conscience. Goodbye Jiminy Cricket, I'm a real girl.
Thirdly, there's no one around to find out exactly how much chocolate you really are eating. Everyone can go along with assumptions like that of my roommate's, "You eat more vegetables than anyone I know. It's like you're a vegetarian. Oh wait, you are."

Alors, I must split, but you see, the theory of relavity was meant for you and me.
Now go out there and take back your homeostasis my dear tiles and buoys.