THE EMOTIONAL BROWNIE
...remember the beauty of catching fireflies as a child?...putting them in masson jars, poking holes in the top, and running around in the dew filled nights with a make-shift lantern? some of us still do those things i think, collect different beauty. have you ever known someone who fills those jars with groups of friends or certain emotional states instead of fireflies? because it strangly translates as an almost half ass attempt to live many different lives at once. set up like a social t.v. dinner with each seperate item carfully divided so that the salsbury steak never drips into the sweet yellow corn. but i often wonder how much comfort there truly is in seeing that cubic chocolate square waiting for you untouched...as if everything can fall apart in your life completely...but at least the brownie is still left? it's a back up plan for existance, a security blanket for the broken hearted, a fucking trust fall you make with one eye peeking below the blindfold. i kind of look at this as complete emotional laziness. i mean sure it might be easier to have a lollypop that rotates on a colorful electric spindle...but how fucking hard is it to simply stick out your tongue? the lessons learned pale in comparisson to the lessons lost. and i wonder if these are the people who end up mumbling frantically to themselves on the street. "where's my brownie?...gotta' have the cordon blue before the mashed potatos...before the mashed potato's."