I’ve been sitting here, on this beige basket, for the past year and a half. My body’s so full of dust, it would be hard to breath, if I breathed. I got Garbage, debris that floated into my cesspit. Forgotten items much like myself that no living being wishes any action upon. I’d stand up and yell, if I could.
“Hey! I’m right here!” I’d yell.
“So what?” The person across the carpet would say.
“Ain't you ever gonna do something with me?”
“No. I don’t want to bother.”
“But i’ve been here for over a year!”
“And you’ll be here for another. Not like you’re about to move.”
“I’ll rot, you know!”
“Look, it’s not that i dislike you, it’s just that you hold absolutely no importance in my life.”
“Well, the thing you’ve been looking for is in me!”
“Really?”
“No…”
“Good try, I guess.”
“So what’s it like, to move and stuff?”
“It’s got positives. Have to go to the bathroom sometimes though.”
“What’s a bathroom?”
“I’d take you to see it, but I don’t care enough.”
“Noted.”
“Yeah. We done here?”
“Well, no. I’m gonna stay here.”
“Oh right.”
“I mean, you can leave-”
“You ain’t kicking me out of my own room, ok?”
“Well, you could, you know, MOVE ME?”
“Effort. Not happening. Stop retreading old ground.”
You know I just sit here right, watching everything?”
“I’d be creeped out, but you’re an object. You don’t pose a threat.”
“Well, I’m sure someone could make me a weapon.”
“You’re cardboard. Dream harder.”
“Hey, I can do whatever I want!”
“Oh great, I’ve got idealistic clutter. No, you can’t be whatever you want.”
“Why not?”
“You… How, huh? How can you be anything?”
“I can be decomposed and made into anything else pretty much!”
“But will you still be you?”
“Well, is anyone really themselves?”
“What’s that crap about?”
“I just mean, aren’t you creating from other things?”
“Sure. Maybe I’ll cardboard today.”
“Funny. Whatever, I guess I’ll just go back to sitting on this basket in silence.”
“Yeah, you should do that.”
“Hey don’t tell me what to do.”
“I think you’re being a bit defensive y’know?”
“Nah, I just don’t like you very much.”
“That’s fine, I guess.”
“OH yeah, one other thing.”
“What?”
“Keep your damn dirty clothes offa me, you hear?”
“UGH, sure, MOM!”
“Alright, good night.”
“Good night?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, just not used to saying goodnight to a box.”
“Well get used to it.”
“Yeah yeah yeah, I will. Good night.”
And then the lights would turn off. And back on a gain. And back off and on hundreds more times. Time wouldn’t fly by, but it’d pass. It’s passed before. It’s passing right now. And I’ll be sitting here, all the while.
No comments:
Post a Comment