The Blue Bag
The blue bag in the shop window staring at me, judging, making me reveal things I would never concede about myself. Maybe I would buy it, just to silence it. Maybe I could hush all the guilt, the indignity. It wouldn't be such a price to pay, would it? It wouldn't be gawking at me then, I would possess it. See it judge me then. I would own it and there would be no accountability, nothing left to gawk at me. I could criticise it into silence; twist it to my own will. Trap it into an existence of nothingness. I will; I will own it and I will never let anyone have what is mine. Until the next time that something is staring at me, judging; I will own that too and shunt inside it an abysmal part of myself, away from prying eyes. You will not make me see the darkness inside myself, I will not face it. I will bury it in possessions; I will fill the emptiness inside by owning impractical things and wearing a false façade. I will not answer to you; I will not answer to anyone! How dare you accuse me! How dare you blame me! How dare you find fault in ME! I do not hear you, I can’t hear you. It is impossible to hear anything over the egocentric contemplatives that slough my consciousness. I may eventually wade my way through the thick palpable leftovers of my less than compassionate soul; but that isn't today. Today I am; alone.
I also set some goals for this month as part of my 500 word challenge:
1. To try and write 500 words a day
2. To obtain some constructive criticism on my work.
- Maybe you could help me out with the later?
Until tomorrow!
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