He is not so much a sad individual as he is sad to behold. Blog Boy is not aware of the observer, though. No. Blog Boy is on an altogether different plane of existence than you or I. Look at Blog Boys hat.
To us, his life is mere text, a collision of keyboard and finger. Just the one finger. The other fingers reel in horror at what great and terrible things their kin taps away into the night and early morn, for what manner of beast, what twisted entity of the 'enter' key would dare suffer such a life of obscurity?
Blog Boy. Blog Boy would for the existence' own sake.
Blog Boy divides his time between nightmarish scenarios and cripplingly beautiful reactions to them. Would that he could know that about himself. Would that we all could see such things of ourselves. There are times when he will curse to the sky, fist clenched so tightly that butter drips from it, screaming at whatever happened to be there.
"THAT CLOUD LOOKS TO LIKE, AND I KNOW IT MUST LIKE SINCE IT SMILES WITH SHOWING TEETH!"
when to us, it just looks like mashed potatoes. Blog Boy would not be able to understand what that is. He eats his potatoes whole. Sometimes he will forget himself as a physical being and get startled by his own shadow, his reflection, the inflection in his voice, a lamp.
It's not long, however, before he remembers himself and can once again know the score.
Blog Boy lives in a world full of...well quite frankly, disturbing things. The rain itself burns the skin off his umbrella and the umbrellas have no skin creams.
He thinks about Blog Girl a lot.
Not because he ought to, as though someone should think of her because she's a frail, helpless thing to be noted and kept in sealed containers within sealed containers because that's how helpless she is that she would need that kind of isolating from the world.
No. He thinks about her not only because she gave him that hat, (though, in an existence where the sun actively seeks eyes to be made sore, it was a gift most appreciated) but also because that hat permitted him to behold her smile when she beheld his willingness to wear it. And no one ever smiles there unless it's worth it because smiling is an immensely painful thing to do in this realm.
But they do.
And on some strange level, that is a painfully pretty thing to think about if you ask me.
1 comment:
It is a realm worth visiting, but I wouldn't want to smile there.
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