Bratz games. Bratz games. Bratz games. Every corner that I come to look I can see those two words. It replays on my mind like a bad last song syndrome of some latest pop song or an old broken phonograph playing on a single song over and over again. This is like the old urban legend of the song with the highest cases of suicide: Gloomy Sunday. Gloomy Sunday was composed before world war one by a composer who was rejected by his lady love. Superstitions have come to be associated with this song and musicians usually are hesitant to play this. An old war pilot once listened to this before flying. To his alarm, the song kept playing on his head as if the old record player was beside him despite the noise of all those engines.

That is what I have been feeling today. This word has been plaguing me for weeks now. There must really be a Big brother somewhere. I am a perfectly normal boy with no record of any mental health in both sides of the family. How then could such a word as mundane as Bratz Games be playing on my mind? I try thinking back to the times when I lost consciousness or for any moments where I have a lapse of memory. Alarmingly, there are a lot. Was it in those moments that this phrase has been inserted into my mind? How did they do that when I have never left home in the past few months? Have they entered my home without anyone in our household noticing them? What is its significance? How does it affect me?

These questions seem to form a queue inside my head: Queries that begin anew even before I have finished asking the first question, even before I stop to think of answering the first questions. I am raving I know. But I do not now what else to do. If I stop thinking about these questions, the haunting word with begin playing again in my head. Please, please make it stop. I never thought that something so simple could drive anyone crazy. I am going crazy of that I have no doubt. In spite of myself, I found myself laughing, laughing to the beat of Bratz games in my head. La la la la. Wait. I must not slip away from my own consciousness. I always prided myself of my own logic. I must think this through. I must think straight.

Perhaps it is a message from outer space? That is not logical. Perhaps I have simply seen it somewhere and the word just stuck. Now that is possible. I must have simply seen it in a TV or Internet ad in a site where I usually go. Ok. Now I am focusing properly. How about I Google the following key words? I think that would help me a lot. Gathering what was left of my sanity, I just did that. Turned out, I have nothing to worry about after all.