The Close of a CD
Beautiful piano filling my eardrums full to bursting of music so eloquently pushed out that it seems almost like a cherub threw up on a human and he was inspired to write it. The last song of the CD that brings all heartache, tragedy, hatred, love and passion to a depressing close.
/unwrapping plastic
Quick!! Before the depressing mood that follows the end of a CD sets in, ADHD yourself to a new track and bang away to guitars, synthesizers and auto-tune. Close your eyes and pretend that nothing ends, nothing will disappear and death will forget about you.
/scratching off the price tag
Crank the bullshit propaganda that infiltrates your mind at the most vulnerable a time. Pretend what you hear isn’t slop and that it holds merit in the world. Pretend the words and metaphors loosely sewn together to make a thin tapestry of lies is the basis for your life. Pretend that pretending to listen is the same as listening. Pretend that the same musical prestige attributed to Mozart and Bach can be attributed to the droning melodies that are being pumped out of your 69.99 dollar 10 day head phones. Pretend you care about it. Pretend it’s important. Pretend you’re in love.
/opening the CD case
Quick! Run! Faster! You’ll never escape inside of your head the assault you have willingly submitted yourself to. The 69.99 dollar 10 day headphones are surrounding your consciousness with a sinister grin. There is no escape, no escape, no escape, no escape. WAIT! What was that? A random moment of thought! Go after it. Ignore the blitzkrieg assault of pig shit assaulting your small trench in the corner of your mind and chase it. Quickly! Look, it’s hiding behind the pile of shit in your mind.
/popping the CD into your computer
Why would some leave a pile of shit in your mind? What is this? Where did that thought go? Wait, this shit smells familiar. This shit has a … sort of childlike quality to it. Could it be? Could this be my childhood creativity? I have been looking forever for this, oh god why is it a pile of shit. Why has it decayed into this slopping pile of mess? RUN RUN RUN! A shell has gone off near your face, almost scarring it for life. You are quaking down to your very last pimple on your back.
/ripping the songs off from the CD
Where did this damn thought go? Where are you my dear? Are you under this rotting leg of a man I drew in fourth grade? How about the beside the small brown leaf of a stick tree I made in kindergarden. Please don’t escape, I need you. THERE! Atop the pile of shit is my thought, I can just barely make it out. Rip out…..rip out……RIP OUT WHAT?
/discarding the CD
I must climb my creativity and grasp the thought. Higher, higher, a little higher. Ignore the failed rose, the failed sand castle, the failed song, the failed purple monkey, the failed failure. Ignore the stink, the filth and the gross. How could this be creativity? This could only crank out evil and hatred and torture couldn’t it. This creativity deserves to be stashed away in the abscesses of my mind. I GOT IT!!!
/shattering the CD case and burning the CD case cover
“RIP OUT YOUR HEAD PHONES!!!!” The thought said. Oh no, I’m sinking. I’m being smothered, falling all the way to the bottom. OH NO OH NO OH NO! Where am I, I can’t see anything, I can’t keep falling. RIP OUT THE HEAD PHONES RIP OUT THE HEAD PHONES!
/downloading all the songs onto the iPod
Solid ground, finally. This seems to be a cave…a place the gross, muck and filth does not touch. It is dank, wet, slimy…..and quiet. The barrage of military prestige has ended. I cannot hear a thing. The song has ended? No….I am sheltered from it’s disparaging blows. Wait, what is that over there? NO!
/the iPod is dropped in a puddle
A small, green, vibrant…..flower. Fertilized, naturized, romanticized. I could look at it forever. Small green veins accenting the lime leaves, flecked wiith brown and red and yellow. The stem curving all the way down to meet the moist soil, not to say I need you, but to say I love you and we belong together. I could look at it forever.
/earbuds wrenched from the ear
I could look at it forever.
/song abruptly ending in a shock of sparks
I will look at it forever.
