Post by Murdoc on Jul 5, 2016 21:56:08 GMT -5
“You expect something from me ...
... don’t you?”
Fingers drum on a mahogany table. It could be oak. A heavy, woodsy thunk; that much is clear.
“I’m sure you can appreciate the feeling. “
“You know the one.”
“That feeling you get when you say something ... “ SNAP! The room is illuminated. Before you sits a sea of mannequins. You’re on a stage and you are the center of everything! All eyes on you and you have their UNDIVIDED attention. Their expressionless ... unmoving ... attention. “ ... and you get the feeling as though no one is listening. Not listening or just indifferent to your words.”
You can feel the sweat bead upon your brow. The pressure under the collar of your shirt is maddening. You wish nothing more than to aerate your body by ripping the skin from your frame. How can it get so hot so QUICKLY?!
“But you being you? No. No no no NO. You stand there, proud and haughty. You can change this, YOU can make this all happen! So you speak. Perhaps you speak louder, hoping to show that your volume equals your passion. Or your authority. Maybe you say the same thing in several different ways, each time trying to simplify it even FURTHER so something sticks. Some word or phrase might create an A-HA! moment and they’ll finally get it. They’ll finally understand and agree with you. You can hear it in your mind now. ‘OH! You’re right! Boy, was I wrong.’ Maybe they’ll even thank you for showing them where their own judgement has failed them."
“And we all know how THAT works out.”
Crickets.
“Your words have fallen on deaf ears. Deaf through apathy or deaf through lack of understanding. Does it really matter? All that matters is here you stand before these ... things ... who are simply not getting it. You want to yell even LOUDER. Almost as if to say “Please GET this! WHY DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!”. You are frustrated beyond all belief, baking under the spotlight and failing spectacularly. But wait ... ! You have a back-up super-weapon!”
PROOF!
Or rather ...
... POOF!
A mannequin in the front row bursts into flames.
And then another.
And another.
The entire front row is engulfed now. The dim mood lighting is scarred with brimstone wounds and acrid smoke.
“See?! I can SHOW you! I can do THIS thing that proves that what I’m saying is true! This is EXACTLY what I told you and now you have no choice but to change your mind and accept that what I’ve said is one hundred percent correct. Thank you and good night!”
Crickets.
Crickets and the sound of styrofoam popping, crackling under the intense heat.
“ ... wait. Wait. I ... showed you the thing. I showed you the thing that proves that I'm telling you the truth!”
And then ... quiet. The stage lights are gone, the STAGE is gone ... and those hungry, soulless eyes are gone.
“But this is the real world. And once you wake up from your dream, you realize that you can’t argue someone into listening to you. You can’t ... LOGIC ... someone into listening to you. They refuse to listen for one reason or another, and you have no control over what they accept as fact or fiction. But you know that, don’t you? You know that exact feeling!”
“You have the facts, you have the proof, you have EVERYTHING to show why they are wrong! And yet, nothing. Nothing nothing nothing! You can’t get through that candy-coated shell to whisper to their grey matter: “You’re fucking up right here and you should listen.” So what do you do? Do you continue to shout and beg and plead and demand that they get it? Hope and pray that in the process you don’t either A: Lose your fucking mind or B: Lose the importance of the message.”
“There is a second option, however.”
“And that option? Show them.”
“Show them at every turn. At every corner, at every crossroads. In every shadow and in every pool of water. Show them every minute of every day. Give them examples. Visceral examples. The more eye-catching, the better. After a while ... once they’ve been deluged, once they’ve been INUNDATED with the same thing. Day in and day out, they’ll finally get it. Even if it’s on their deathbed, they’ll see the signs like some bolt from the heavens.”
“Hey, you know ... maybe I was supposed to learn something here.”
“And if they’re really on the ball, they’ll catch it BEFORE they skid sideways into their grave.”
Fingers drumming on a mahogany table. Or oak. A heavy ... woodsy thunk. THAT much is clear.
“What’s it going to be, Wryght?”
... don’t you?”
Fingers drum on a mahogany table. It could be oak. A heavy, woodsy thunk; that much is clear.
“I’m sure you can appreciate the feeling. “
“You know the one.”
“That feeling you get when you say something ... “ SNAP! The room is illuminated. Before you sits a sea of mannequins. You’re on a stage and you are the center of everything! All eyes on you and you have their UNDIVIDED attention. Their expressionless ... unmoving ... attention. “ ... and you get the feeling as though no one is listening. Not listening or just indifferent to your words.”
You can feel the sweat bead upon your brow. The pressure under the collar of your shirt is maddening. You wish nothing more than to aerate your body by ripping the skin from your frame. How can it get so hot so QUICKLY?!
“But you being you? No. No no no NO. You stand there, proud and haughty. You can change this, YOU can make this all happen! So you speak. Perhaps you speak louder, hoping to show that your volume equals your passion. Or your authority. Maybe you say the same thing in several different ways, each time trying to simplify it even FURTHER so something sticks. Some word or phrase might create an A-HA! moment and they’ll finally get it. They’ll finally understand and agree with you. You can hear it in your mind now. ‘OH! You’re right! Boy, was I wrong.’ Maybe they’ll even thank you for showing them where their own judgement has failed them."
“And we all know how THAT works out.”
Crickets.
“Your words have fallen on deaf ears. Deaf through apathy or deaf through lack of understanding. Does it really matter? All that matters is here you stand before these ... things ... who are simply not getting it. You want to yell even LOUDER. Almost as if to say “Please GET this! WHY DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!”. You are frustrated beyond all belief, baking under the spotlight and failing spectacularly. But wait ... ! You have a back-up super-weapon!”
PROOF!
Or rather ...
... POOF!
A mannequin in the front row bursts into flames.
And then another.
And another.
The entire front row is engulfed now. The dim mood lighting is scarred with brimstone wounds and acrid smoke.
“See?! I can SHOW you! I can do THIS thing that proves that what I’m saying is true! This is EXACTLY what I told you and now you have no choice but to change your mind and accept that what I’ve said is one hundred percent correct. Thank you and good night!”
Crickets.
Crickets and the sound of styrofoam popping, crackling under the intense heat.
“ ... wait. Wait. I ... showed you the thing. I showed you the thing that proves that I'm telling you the truth!”
And then ... quiet. The stage lights are gone, the STAGE is gone ... and those hungry, soulless eyes are gone.
“But this is the real world. And once you wake up from your dream, you realize that you can’t argue someone into listening to you. You can’t ... LOGIC ... someone into listening to you. They refuse to listen for one reason or another, and you have no control over what they accept as fact or fiction. But you know that, don’t you? You know that exact feeling!”
“You have the facts, you have the proof, you have EVERYTHING to show why they are wrong! And yet, nothing. Nothing nothing nothing! You can’t get through that candy-coated shell to whisper to their grey matter: “You’re fucking up right here and you should listen.” So what do you do? Do you continue to shout and beg and plead and demand that they get it? Hope and pray that in the process you don’t either A: Lose your fucking mind or B: Lose the importance of the message.”
“There is a second option, however.”
“And that option? Show them.”
“Show them at every turn. At every corner, at every crossroads. In every shadow and in every pool of water. Show them every minute of every day. Give them examples. Visceral examples. The more eye-catching, the better. After a while ... once they’ve been deluged, once they’ve been INUNDATED with the same thing. Day in and day out, they’ll finally get it. Even if it’s on their deathbed, they’ll see the signs like some bolt from the heavens.”
“Hey, you know ... maybe I was supposed to learn something here.”
“And if they’re really on the ball, they’ll catch it BEFORE they skid sideways into their grave.”
Fingers drumming on a mahogany table. Or oak. A heavy ... woodsy thunk. THAT much is clear.
“What’s it going to be, Wryght?”
