The second half of the writing challenge begins. Day 16: "Something That You Miss". Nothing like coming out of the box with something heavy and soul revealing.
I'm not very good at displaying my softer side. I hide behind jokes. I'm great at displaying the shit that pisses me off and things that outrage me, like politicians and careless corporations and the such. Like the harlequin that I so sorely distrust and dislike I'm quite adept at hiding my pain with a forced, yet natural looking smile.
There was a time when I let bygones be bygones. A time when I turned the biblical phrase of turning the other cheek. I was young, naïve and believed that there was more good in the world than bad. A belief that through time eroded like a California ocean hillside after one Niña too many.
But assignments like this are difficult for me. You can't make jokes like how would you write the headline if a rogue robot melted down a busload of nuns? "Nun Soup". This assignment is much too touchy feely for glib, adolescent humor. The problem here is you are expected to reveal something very dear to you that you've never shared with anyone, not even an analyst, if you have one. I do not have one. I tend to keep those hopes, dreams, nightmares and such close to the vest, to turn another phrase.
I remember a boy of 5 or 6 on one late spring or early summer swinging in the backyard on the family play set swing in an up and coming New Jersey suburb. He was laying back swinging and staring up into that humongous azure blue sky watching the puffy white cloud billows as they floated lazily by. The boy was without a care in the world. Oblivious to how hard the world is and can be. The greatest demand on his mind was when the Yankees were going to be on the TV and if he would get to see Mickey Mantle, his favorite player, play or whether his favorite cartoon, The Flintstones, was on that evening.
That, of course, was before the bullies and faux friends entered his life. The untrue users, who usurped his trust, faithfulness and kindness, tainting it until the end of time with a stain so embedded into the fabric of the boy's psyche that he would never recover his joy and mirth. The heartless wretches hurt him both physically and emotionally punishing him for just being him. They used his strengths and turned them into weakness. They took a sweet, kindly lad and deconstructed him into a bitter, jaded adult far before his time. They took his blazing campfire of hope, desires and dreams and pissed it out to smoldering embers along with his innocence. And when they were all gone the boy, now man, was left with nothing. An empty shell. A person who hides behind smirks, jibes and jokes and paints on a phony smile and snarky attitude in the attempt to hide the sad, true fact that he's dead inside. He is empty and like his tormentors, soulless. A person, who laughs on the outside while crying on the inside, trying to replace what was taken from him so long ago.
That sort of soul reveal is just not what I'm capable of writing to submit to strangers or casual acquaintances. So, I must apologize, because I will not be able to participate in today's writing challenge assignment.
Day 17: Post about your zodiac sign, and whether or not it fits you. That would be an Aquarius.
I'm not very good at displaying my softer side. I hide behind jokes. I'm great at displaying the shit that pisses me off and things that outrage me, like politicians and careless corporations and the such. Like the harlequin that I so sorely distrust and dislike I'm quite adept at hiding my pain with a forced, yet natural looking smile.
There was a time when I let bygones be bygones. A time when I turned the biblical phrase of turning the other cheek. I was young, naïve and believed that there was more good in the world than bad. A belief that through time eroded like a California ocean hillside after one Niña too many.
But assignments like this are difficult for me. You can't make jokes like how would you write the headline if a rogue robot melted down a busload of nuns? "Nun Soup". This assignment is much too touchy feely for glib, adolescent humor. The problem here is you are expected to reveal something very dear to you that you've never shared with anyone, not even an analyst, if you have one. I do not have one. I tend to keep those hopes, dreams, nightmares and such close to the vest, to turn another phrase.
I remember a boy of 5 or 6 on one late spring or early summer swinging in the backyard on the family play set swing in an up and coming New Jersey suburb. He was laying back swinging and staring up into that humongous azure blue sky watching the puffy white cloud billows as they floated lazily by. The boy was without a care in the world. Oblivious to how hard the world is and can be. The greatest demand on his mind was when the Yankees were going to be on the TV and if he would get to see Mickey Mantle, his favorite player, play or whether his favorite cartoon, The Flintstones, was on that evening.
That, of course, was before the bullies and faux friends entered his life. The untrue users, who usurped his trust, faithfulness and kindness, tainting it until the end of time with a stain so embedded into the fabric of the boy's psyche that he would never recover his joy and mirth. The heartless wretches hurt him both physically and emotionally punishing him for just being him. They used his strengths and turned them into weakness. They took a sweet, kindly lad and deconstructed him into a bitter, jaded adult far before his time. They took his blazing campfire of hope, desires and dreams and pissed it out to smoldering embers along with his innocence. And when they were all gone the boy, now man, was left with nothing. An empty shell. A person who hides behind smirks, jibes and jokes and paints on a phony smile and snarky attitude in the attempt to hide the sad, true fact that he's dead inside. He is empty and like his tormentors, soulless. A person, who laughs on the outside while crying on the inside, trying to replace what was taken from him so long ago.
That sort of soul reveal is just not what I'm capable of writing to submit to strangers or casual acquaintances. So, I must apologize, because I will not be able to participate in today's writing challenge assignment.
Day 17: Post about your zodiac sign, and whether or not it fits you. That would be an Aquarius.
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