Do you want a piece of me? Is that what it is? Is that all this is? Because I'll tell you now, that isn't going to achieve anything.
I'm the same as everyone else. Really. If you shake me then I'll rattle. You might not think it, right now. You might think that I'm 'different', and you'd be forgiven for thinking it, but not by me. I'm pretty unforgiving. I only work one way, and you'll have to work with me if you want the best of me.
Can you see what I look like? I know you can, or at least you think you can, on the outside at least. But I'm incomplete inside, honestly. And that image, the one you can see? That isn't really what I'm like. That's not me most of the time. Most of the time I'm an unmitigated muddle. A big mess. Bigger than you imagine you know.
Don't let me frustrate you. I'd hate it if you got bored of me and I can't abide the thought of being redundant. So don't waste hours on me without getting anything back, because that might happen. You might approach me the same way you approach everyone, and you've no obligation to approach me any differently. Use your usual technique, the same tried and tested method that has guaranteed success in the past. And take your time, exercise your effort with discretion. Leave me alone for a while, go and do something else. Come back to me later, once you've had time to think, time to distract yourself from me. Don't totally forget about me though, or we'll end up having to start all over again. Although I already know it's only ever going to end one of two ways. Isn't that always the way?
Go on, please. Please try me once, or at least once, just to get me out of your system, just to find out what I'm like. I know you'll feel much better for it. You know you'll much feel better for it. It's a given. It gets easier each time, in time, like everything does. Or am I a game to you? Just some sort of fucking game? Am I...? AM I...? ...So just get rid of me. Dump me. Drop me. I'd care, of course I would, I'd go to pieces. But I swear I'd hold you responsible for picking up every single one afterwards. I know I wouldn't be in any position do it myself.
I'm an enigma: a complex soul. I'm black. And I'm white. And black and white. And grey. And a myriad of other colours and reflections of light and shades of shadow. I'm a plethora of different shapes and every shape a different shape. Every one has a pattern and everyone has a pattern. Everyone has the right to feel complete. We're all just a series of rows and columns, and corners or edges, aren't we?
No?
Okay fine. Have it your way. Go ahead. Pigeonhole me. Put me into a convenient box.
I'm the same as everyone else. Really. If you shake me then I'll rattle. You might not think it, right now. You might think that I'm 'different', and you'd be forgiven for thinking it, but not by me. I'm pretty unforgiving. I only work one way, and you'll have to work with me if you want the best of me.
Can you see what I look like? I know you can, or at least you think you can, on the outside at least. But I'm incomplete inside, honestly. And that image, the one you can see? That isn't really what I'm like. That's not me most of the time. Most of the time I'm an unmitigated muddle. A big mess. Bigger than you imagine you know.
Don't let me frustrate you. I'd hate it if you got bored of me and I can't abide the thought of being redundant. So don't waste hours on me without getting anything back, because that might happen. You might approach me the same way you approach everyone, and you've no obligation to approach me any differently. Use your usual technique, the same tried and tested method that has guaranteed success in the past. And take your time, exercise your effort with discretion. Leave me alone for a while, go and do something else. Come back to me later, once you've had time to think, time to distract yourself from me. Don't totally forget about me though, or we'll end up having to start all over again. Although I already know it's only ever going to end one of two ways. Isn't that always the way?
Go on, please. Please try me once, or at least once, just to get me out of your system, just to find out what I'm like. I know you'll feel much better for it. You know you'll much feel better for it. It's a given. It gets easier each time, in time, like everything does. Or am I a game to you? Just some sort of fucking game? Am I...? AM I...? ...So just get rid of me. Dump me. Drop me. I'd care, of course I would, I'd go to pieces. But I swear I'd hold you responsible for picking up every single one afterwards. I know I wouldn't be in any position do it myself.
I'm an enigma: a complex soul. I'm black. And I'm white. And black and white. And grey. And a myriad of other colours and reflections of light and shades of shadow. I'm a plethora of different shapes and every shape a different shape. Every one has a pattern and everyone has a pattern. Everyone has the right to feel complete. We're all just a series of rows and columns, and corners or edges, aren't we?
No?
Okay fine. Have it your way. Go ahead. Pigeonhole me. Put me into a convenient box.
7 comments:
I knew that was a pic of Keith Allen! :)
The only box I see you in is a comments box. You don't fit anywhere else, that's what makes you so interesting.
Complicated, true. But the final result is worth it, right? The satisfaction of seeing how you work, making you complete.
No, i don't believe i have a box that would suit.
stay free!
This isn't about me. It's about a jigsaw puzzle.
You cunning devil, you. After the sneaky cleverness of Together, you’d think people would get it quicker. Very nice work.
People did get it, sweetie. And you are a jigsaw puzzle. That's why we like you. :)
I didn't get it! Doh!! (Told you I wasn't so smart!)
I do know though :-)
Much too clever for your own good, you know!
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