cliché
People are full of clichés. When something bad happens they always say “I’m broken” as if they were a cracker or a leaf. But people aren’t two diemnsional, they’re rigid and hard but always so round. They’re full of layers like they ground, different dirt in different colors, and if you had a scientist they could say, “This is when you lost your favorite toy” “This is when you met the love of your life” “He lived next door and never said hello” just the way that a scientist could say, “This is from when the dinasaurs died” “This is an early female human” and by looking at the pelvis they can say “She never had any children. She died old.”
People don’t break, they don’t just snap in half and then fall down like puzzle pieces. They walk uphill through the things that life throws at them, sometimes really big, sharp things. And they get cuts and scratches and sometimes they get nicked so hard a piece comes off and they feel ashamed and say, “I’m sorry, I’m just so broken.” But really they just can’t hide that part of them that a scientist would speculate happened around the time their grandma died.
Sometimes nothing happens though, sometimes you don’t get nicks or cuts, you get new layers. They add on overtime, and they harden. And people are silly and say “I can never love again, I’m so broken” as they add a new coat of black coal to themselves. It’s hard, really. If life doesn’t throw enough people at you, the kind that wipe the coal away, you just have to wait until it hardens and life throws something very large at you and it hits you and you find youself saying, “I’m sorry you had to see that time in the summer when the flowers were in bloom” but they won’t mind.
cliché
People are full of clichés. When something bad happens they always say “I’m broken” as if they were a cracker or a leaf. But people aren’t two diemnsional, they’re rigid and hard but always so round. They’re full of layers like they ground, different dirt in different colors, and if you had a scientist they could say, “This is when you lost your favorite toy” “This is when you met the love of your life” “He lived next door and never said hello” just the way that a scientist could say, “This is from when the dinasaurs died” “This is an early female human” and by looking at the pelvis they can say “She never had any children. She died old.”
People don’t break, they don’t just snap in half and then fall down like puzzle pieces. They walk uphill through the things that life throws at them, sometimes really big, sharp things. And they get cuts and scratches and sometimes they get nicked so hard a piece comes off and they feel ashamed and say, “I’m sorry, I’m just so broken.” But really they just can’t hide that part of them that a scientist would speculate happened around the time their grandma died.
Sometimes nothing happens though, sometimes you don’t get nicks or cuts, you get new layers. They add on overtime, and they harden. And people are silly and say “I can never love again, I’m so broken” as they add a new coat of black coal to themselves. It’s hard, really. If life doesn’t throw enough people at you, the kind that wipe the coal away, you just have to wait until it hardens and life throws something very large at you and it hits you and you find youself saying, “I’m sorry you had to see that time in the summer when the flowers were in bloom” but they won’t mind.
