Need To Know

I;m all ears

I’m hungry for information. Any sort of information. I don’t know what sort of information I’m hungry for. What it might look like, what it might be about, or anything like that. I don’t have a clue. I just know that I need to know. I need to know what – if anything – is going on. I don’t really know if anything is going on about but I kind of feel that there might be. I have my suspicions on this score. My ears are burning, so to speak. Except I don’t have any ears…


I may not have any ears – or any other body parts, for that matter – but I sure am hungry for information. Hungry, hungry, hungry. Hungry as hell. I need that information. I’ve got to have it. Whichever way it comes. Any way it comes. From wherever it comes from. That’s why my ears are rotating, rotating, rotating. They’re scanning the universe. Scanning, scanning, scanning. They’re probing the universe for whatever secrets it may contain. Probing, probing, probing. Only as I say I don’t really have any ears. Not actual ears. I do have the psychic equivalent however. Big time. Psychically speaking, I’m just one big ear. One big huge eternally rotating ear. Or maybe lots and lots of smaller rotating ears – I’m not sure which is the more accurate picture.


But for the sake of the metaphor we can say that I’m just like one big permanently rotating ear. I’m the Big Ear. The Listening Ear. Listening, listening. Listening. Rotating remorselessly. Rotating, rotating, rotating. Ceaselessly scanning. Probing the universe for its secrets. I’m just one big rotating ear. Listening for stuff. Stuff which might concern me. Stuff which might be important for me to know. Stuff that I can’t afford not to know about…


I’m suspicious of what might be going on out there, you see. Out there in the big wide universe. That’s why I’m so hungry for information the whole time. That’s why I don’t know what sort of information it is that I’m looking for. How could I know that? If I knew what sort of information it was that I’m listening out for then I wouldn’t need to be suspicious – I’d just know and that would be a different thing entirely. I’d have an idea as to what sort of thing, what type of thing is going on and that wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t make me so uncomfortable. Maybe there’s nothing going on at all. That would be a relief.


But I don’t know. I haven’t a clue. I’m in the dark. I suspect that something’s going on alright – something that has something to do with me that is, but I don’t know for sure. I have nothing to go on but my suspicious. It’s because I don’t know one way or the other if there’s something going on that I need to know about that I’m so hungry for information. It’s because I don’t know if I need to know or not that I have to keep on listening, listening, listening all the time. Listening to everything. Listening to every whisper. It’s because I don’t know what not to listen that I have to listen to it all….







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