You look past the things you don't want to see
You pretend those things don't matter
You convince yourself you are doing nothing wrong
But you are
You know you are
That's why you are trying so hard
To put on that mask you think protects you
An Uninvolved Observer
If the walls had ears
They'd experience everything and nothing.
They'd hear the witty phrases,
the stormy arguments,
the cackling laughs,
the shrieks of agony,
the awkward silences
and the tears of joy.
But so what?
They can't be a part of it.
Imagine the torture
of having one single human characteristic
while never being able to act human.
Just imagine it.
Titus Andronicus, Sweeney Todd, Arya Stark:
All place human flesh in meat pies
While seeking vengeance for loved ones.
Jenna Rink, Mike O' Donnell, Josh Baskin:
All wish for their age to change
So they can find a sense of fulfillment.
Mary Jane Watson, Bella Swan, Snow White:
All irritating damsels in distress
Who hardly ever fend for themselves.
Po Ping, Elle Woods, Rocky Balboa:
All individuals underestimated in their fields
That end up coming out on top.
Constantine Bates, Mrs. Gump, Sairy Morey:
All incredibly nurturing mother figures
Who influence their main characters' personas.
Where is the originality?
Now, don't misunderstand me;
I enjoy most of these characters immensely.
And I also realize that all these characters,
While very similar at their core,
Have distinct personality traits that make them all their own.
But why do writers limit their imaginations
And stick to character tropes that we have seen
Time and time again?
Do they not trust us to handle anything deeper?
Or have they simply run out of new ideas?
Sunbathing in eighty degree heat
Listening to Timeflies' latest album
Reading the works of Diana Gabaldon
Sipping on a perfectly chilled Diet Coke
Smashing an overhead over the fence
Suckling a lime after a tequila shot
Finding rhythm while on the treadmill
Chewing spearmint gum after a meal
Laughing at a sincerely funny joke
Making out with a complete stranger
Jumping while watching a horror film
Meeting up with a best friend for lunch
Baking Christmas cookies for "Santa"
Plumping eyelashes with charcoal mascara
Flying high on a playground swing set
Lighting up a brand new candle
Viewing fireworks on the Fourth of July
Singing in a steaming hot shower
Biting into a honeycrisp apple
Fawning over extremely cliched love scenes
Receiving praise for a job well done
Cuddling underneath a pile of blankets
Watching classic Disney movies
Stretching out ridiculously sore muscles
Typing compelling narratives on my laptop
Black or red? ... mmm, black?
Wrong. It's a red seven. Drink.
Higher or lower?
I will say ... higher?
It's a black queen. Freaking good;
My drink is so strong;
Ginger ale and whiskey.
In between or outside? Ummmm...
It is a black ten.
Three drinks. Shit. Don't think, just drink.
Now for the hard part:
Which suit will it be?
How to make this random choice?
Hearts, spades, diamonds, clubs...
I'm gonna say clubs?
I actually got it right!
IT'S CLUBS! It's over!
As I start to leave
With my unfinished beverage
The dealer asks me:
Want to play again?
I halt. Buzzed from my last hand,
I reply: all right.
Soldiers spurting into assailing adversaries
Cut! Clash! Clang!
Fighters flung and flayed ferociously
Grunt! Gurgle! Gush!
Blood bubbling from bludgeoned breasts
Shriek! Stifle. Silence...
Remains rot in profligate piles
The subtle intricacies that somehow enhance innate characteristics of individual entities.
She unfurled the grip, plastic and all,
And placed it's end on the tip of the neck
And began to spin it.
The grip overlapped predecessors
Tautening and tightening all the while.
Shortened to a nub from the pulling and tugging,
It was time for a trim.
Glued to the roof of my mouth
A welcomed squatter
I stared into his vacant eyes as his fingers tightened eagerly around my delicate neck. As his cold, unyielding hands reaped my final moments, I thrashed about in futile resistance.