_____________________________________________"I want to be normal."
"Why on earth would you do that?" Smuck scornfully ask as he curlled up on a soft felt arm chair with a steaming cup of tea.
"Well," My ceramic cup tinked against the tiny delicate saucer. "I want to be socially accepted everywhere I go."
"Remember that theory you had back in year six? About making friends?"
"Yeah, 'Be yourself and friends will flock to you.'"
"There was another one wasn't there? Something about the environment..."
"Oh that's right, 'Change your environment to suit yourself, don't let your environment change you'?"
"Surely they they have been successful in the reciepe of friend making? Look at all the lovely people around you."
I lay my teacup on the window sill and took a good look around. The room is awash with lazy warm light. A fire place in the corner, a kettle on the boil. Groups of people gossipping, couple snuggling away from the winter chill. Laughter, happiness and glee seemed to be suspended right across the entire ceiling; twirling around the chandalier. I sat by the open window.
"I guess these people aren't too bad."
"I say that you've gotten to where you are by generally being the, admittedly...eccentric person that you are. So why are you complaining?"
"You see thee all these people in this room?" I nodded at the mass of people who have all decided to join in the festivities of butchering a pinata.
"Yep, they seem to have having fun."
"See all the people out there?" I indicated out into the ice cold street down below, with a nod of the head. The busy noise of the city, as cars rushed by in inconcievable haste, honking and blaring their way through the jungle. People swearing and voicing their concerns openly to the public. People are struggling to get through the day. People releasing their stomach contents unwillfully onto the streets. People loosing ounces of blood. People passing out in the gutter. Superficial relationships, garbage conversations, reckless loitering. "I want to get into that."
"You're an idiot."
"I know. But surely I'm sicking with my own motto, changing my environment to suit myself."
"You and I both know that's not what you meant by environment."
"Yeah..."
"And No. No you don't know. You really are an idiot. Take that piece of advice from your suffering grandmother: 'There are some things that if you do, there's no turning back.' She's told you the stories, of the kids being forced into gangs, kids being assaulted, right in the middle of the street. How nobody dared to intervene, just watched on. It it through your fucking skull boy, why the fuck would you pick up shit?. Just don't do it."
"What happens if I do?"
Smuck leaned back in his chair looking exhausted. "See these people here?" Indicating the joyful people in the room.
"Yeah?"
"They won't know you anymore."
"Why on earth would you do that?" Smuck scornfully ask as he curlled up on a soft felt arm chair with a steaming cup of tea.
"Well," My ceramic cup tinked against the tiny delicate saucer. "I want to be socially accepted everywhere I go."
"Remember that theory you had back in year six? About making friends?"
"Yeah, 'Be yourself and friends will flock to you.'"
"There was another one wasn't there? Something about the environment..."
"Oh that's right, 'Change your environment to suit yourself, don't let your environment change you'?"
"Surely they they have been successful in the reciepe of friend making? Look at all the lovely people around you."
I lay my teacup on the window sill and took a good look around. The room is awash with lazy warm light. A fire place in the corner, a kettle on the boil. Groups of people gossipping, couple snuggling away from the winter chill. Laughter, happiness and glee seemed to be suspended right across the entire ceiling; twirling around the chandalier. I sat by the open window.
"I guess these people aren't too bad."
"I say that you've gotten to where you are by generally being the, admittedly...eccentric person that you are. So why are you complaining?"
"You see thee all these people in this room?" I nodded at the mass of people who have all decided to join in the festivities of butchering a pinata.
"Yep, they seem to have having fun."
"See all the people out there?" I indicated out into the ice cold street down below, with a nod of the head. The busy noise of the city, as cars rushed by in inconcievable haste, honking and blaring their way through the jungle. People swearing and voicing their concerns openly to the public. People are struggling to get through the day. People releasing their stomach contents unwillfully onto the streets. People loosing ounces of blood. People passing out in the gutter. Superficial relationships, garbage conversations, reckless loitering. "I want to get into that."
"You're an idiot."
"I know. But surely I'm sicking with my own motto, changing my environment to suit myself."
"You and I both know that's not what you meant by environment."
"Yeah..."
"And No. No you don't know. You really are an idiot. Take that piece of advice from your suffering grandmother: 'There are some things that if you do, there's no turning back.' She's told you the stories, of the kids being forced into gangs, kids being assaulted, right in the middle of the street. How nobody dared to intervene, just watched on. It it through your fucking skull boy, why the fuck would you pick up shit?. Just don't do it."
"What happens if I do?"
Smuck leaned back in his chair looking exhausted. "See these people here?" Indicating the joyful people in the room.
"Yeah?"
"They won't know you anymore."
