Tuesday, September 2, 2014

A Message From a Thought in My Brain

Stop Trying to Polish Me. I'm a Turd.

It's been months since you first thought of me in the shower and I caused you to crack a smile. You kept repeating me over and over as you lathered and rinsed, then rushed out of the bathroom to write me down so you wouldn’t forget. Those first few days you thought of me constantly. You told me how smart and unique I was and how I was the big breakthrough you were waiting for. We were going to be famous. But it’s time to face facts. This relationship isn’t going anywhere. No matter how much you try to polish me, I’m still a turd.

I suppose we were over as soon as we began. After our initial spark of attraction, things went downhill fast. You tweeted me, but I fell on deaf ears. You tried working me into conversations as a joke while hanging out with coworkers and two different sets of friends, but I was ignored. You tried writing several drafts of me as a personal essay, but I just couldn’t translate on paper like I did in your brain.

The setbacks took their toll. I’d go weeks without hearing from you, then suddenly I’d get attention from you for a whole Sunday afternoon. But it wasn’t the kind of attention I wanted. I could feel your frustration and anger as you tried to recapture the magic of when you first thought of me, but it felt forced. You were trying to hard. So was I.

I mean, look at me. I’m a jumbled mess. It’s pretty obvious I was written in random spurts. I was so embarrassed that one time you asked your friend Mark to read me. You knew I wasn’t even close to ready but you were desperate for any kind of validation. I felt bad when the two of you got into it after he said he didn’t understand paragraph two and you could do without paragraph five, but I could see it coming. Things haven’t been the same between the two of you since.

At this point, we’re just going through the motions. Every time you try to come up with something new for me, we keep going back to the drawing board of the same old ideas that you hate. I’m sick of it. It’s time to break the cycle.

Maybe I was never meant to be more than a passing thought. But a passing thought to bigger and better ideas. I don’t want to hold you back from them any longer. There are so many new thoughts coming into your head everyday. It’s not fair to keep putting them off for me. If you give them some time, maybe you’ll find the magic in them that you thought you had with me.

So let me be. It’s time to let go. You gave me your best shot, but the stink of my shit is just too hard to ignore. Let me decompose gracefully in your brain so I can serve as the fertilizer for new ideas to grow from. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ll always have plenty of fertilizer.

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