Cross my palm with silver

I’m thinking of self-fulfilling a self-fulfilling prophecy. At this stage, I do admit, I have yet to formulate a prophecy that I can be bothered fulfilling. I doubt it will involve nemesis killing though; it’s not that easy to find nemeses in these tough modern times. I’m looking into tall, dark, and handsome possibilities but the formula is awry and the most handsome dark that I saw recently was a cat who was not tall at all. It occurs to me that I should take the tall where I can get it and abduct the dark and handsome cat. I wonder why I would assume that my prophecy should come wrapped in a neat (if largish) package and all wrapped up in a bow. I suspect that I would be lucky with random mismatched articles tied up with bits of used string and labelled according to my function rather than their actual form.
I have a hopeful buzz that seems to be related almost entirely to painkillers and not at all a pleasant reflection of my life. It came on very suddenly and no doubt will flee momentarily. Flutter in on itty bitty bat wings and get snaffled by the giant huntsman who has a kitchen only treaty. It’s nice to flutter in and flutter by and watch your mind flit away. Maybe that’s my prophecy. The one I’ve been speaking for decades. The day will come o the day will come o the day will come when my mind’s away. I think I feel it ebbing away. It would, of course, be tedious to fulfil that prophecy. Another one, however, has yet to present itself and I have limited imagination. Maybe I should stick with what I know and prophesise eternal sameness. I believe I could further fulfil that with limited effort.