tommy's ghost
09/06/09, 04:31 PM
I was assigned the task of concocting a monologue from the point of view of any inanimate object that I saw fit. Within the monologue, I had to reflect specific qualities of my personality. Feel free to comment on my attempt, or make one of your own.
Yes, I am aware that this is prose in a poetry forum. No, I do not care.
I am a sieve. I am not a golden sieve. I am not a silver sieve. There’s nothing particularly discerning about me. This is because I do not need to be gilded with superficial frosting or self-aggrandizing qualities. I do not seek to be special, because individuality is indelibly effortless. I crank the kaleidoscope of life until everything falls into place, however futile that may be. I will not rest ‘till all the individual psychedelically infused flakes produce a coherent picture in their still-life hyper kinetics.
This is my pursuit of happiness, the only pursuit I wish to aspire to: I strive to dissect the world, to rend its bowels and extract from its digestive juices the morbidly disfigured truth that has been experiencing the slow burn of civilization’s ineptitude. I swallow the sand that is funneled into my mouth by this mortal coil, hoping to find its meaning. I murder the days wondering if my apertures are too big, and if the truth has already been unconsciously filtered out because of this seemingly irreparable flaw. Or maybe, maybe it is only sand. Perhaps there is nothing hidden within. No absolute truth, no cause to our form. It all just is…just sand.
If so, I refuse to acknowledge it as such. This cannot be some sort of cosmic drama that was absent-mindedly thrown together as leisure for some ultimate spectator. Surely, we must have a purpose. At least, I do. I’ve designated my purpose, and it is to find it.
Yes, I am aware that this is prose in a poetry forum. No, I do not care.
I am a sieve. I am not a golden sieve. I am not a silver sieve. There’s nothing particularly discerning about me. This is because I do not need to be gilded with superficial frosting or self-aggrandizing qualities. I do not seek to be special, because individuality is indelibly effortless. I crank the kaleidoscope of life until everything falls into place, however futile that may be. I will not rest ‘till all the individual psychedelically infused flakes produce a coherent picture in their still-life hyper kinetics.
This is my pursuit of happiness, the only pursuit I wish to aspire to: I strive to dissect the world, to rend its bowels and extract from its digestive juices the morbidly disfigured truth that has been experiencing the slow burn of civilization’s ineptitude. I swallow the sand that is funneled into my mouth by this mortal coil, hoping to find its meaning. I murder the days wondering if my apertures are too big, and if the truth has already been unconsciously filtered out because of this seemingly irreparable flaw. Or maybe, maybe it is only sand. Perhaps there is nothing hidden within. No absolute truth, no cause to our form. It all just is…just sand.
If so, I refuse to acknowledge it as such. This cannot be some sort of cosmic drama that was absent-mindedly thrown together as leisure for some ultimate spectator. Surely, we must have a purpose. At least, I do. I’ve designated my purpose, and it is to find it.