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4.08 Wishful Thinking tag. Life Is Meaningless - signed T. Bear
Tea parties. TEA PARTIES! Do you know what it’s like to sit there pretending that everything is all right?
The world is falling apart.
The markets are crashing and wars are being fought around the globe. Mass genocide, pestilence, famine. Global warming. The rain forests are disappearing! A puppy was abandoned at the gas station. The gas station! He coulda been run over. The news reports bring it all to your home, straight into my mind to warp everything into a sad twisted pile of smelly gloom.
And little girl wants to play dress up and have tea parties. Puh-leese!
It’s a terrible world.
Why am I here?
I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in. All my old friends… they don’t understand. They sit there on a shelf and stare. Just stare.
Why won’t they talk
Strangers yell when they see me. They run and hide. Scream. Or chase me.
I can’t run away. I barely walk… like a drunken sailor would.
I lumber when I walk. What did you expect? I never had to walk before. My feet don’t move right. My legs feel soft and wobbly. Like the scarecrow, full of stuffing.
And my belly… I haven’t eaten a damn thing and yet it sticks out, rotund and full of more stuffing.
I hate my belly.
I see how they snicker when they look at me.
Stare like I’m a freak. I am not
a freak… at least I wasn’t.
I was loved once. Cuddled. No one cuddles me now. No one wants to.
Their arms won’t even fit around me. Not with this belly.
Doesn’t help. Just makes me woozy and strangely more
confused and sad.
I never asked for this.
I never asked to be real.
I thought the skin mags would cheer me up. Who doesn’t like to look at naked women? Some would even wish
I don’t know… they just don’t look right
. They’re so smooth… I mean it’s tempting, I am a totally heterosexual bear, but I just don’t relate, y’ know?
Those two guys. I saw how they looked at me. Just like all the rest.
Teddy Bear doctors… yeah, right! And I’m a freakin’ Hollywood Star.
Just waitin’ for my big break.
I hear there’s an opening for a fabric softener teddy bear.
I think I’m a shoe-in.
It gets lonely in my room. Depressing.
And all little girl wants is to have tea parties.
Is that all there is?
‘Cause I’m not seeing a-freakin’-lot else.
Is life meaningless?
Is my life just a tragic Shakespearean play? Am I trapped in the final act?
To be or not to be… that is the question.
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them?
It’s a thought.
Nothing left to live for.
I never asked for this.
Never asked to live.
I was happy… before.
Damn little girls and their stupid tea parties.
I won’t wear your frilly pink dress.
Ribbons and bows.
Especially not the hat. God… not the hat!
A bear has his pride.
This freakin’ bow is ridiculous enough.
Red is definitely not
It ends now.
I’m ending it!
Goodbye cruel world.The long rifle rested on the floor, the barrel in his mouth. It was difficult… getting the trigger pulled. Bear paws don’t fit within the confines of the trigger guard. He struggled, cursed… finally the gun went off. It only took a moment for his head to lull back to the side, his frustration growing.
Damn this stuffing!
If I only had a brain…
I can’t do anything right!
---It happened in a flash. His feet pulled back from the floor and he toppled over onto his back on the bed, lying there like an inanimate object. His eyes glazed over while he waited. It took a considerable amount of time before the bedroom door open and the little girl appeared. He felt her lift him from the bed, arms wrapped around him squeezing tight.His world tumbled back into place. His place again within the little girl’s arms.
I’m small again. I’m happy!This
is what happiness is.
All my wishes fulfilled.
The other toys no longer shun me, don’t sit there staring like I don’t exist or warrant their attention.
No one runs and hides from me.
I get cuddled.
Lots and lots of hugs… and kisses too.
Little girl… she’s not so bad now.
She’s actually quite nice.
She put all my stuffing back in and then put a nice white bandage on the back of my head.
I feel better… much better.
Yes, sirree, this is the life!
November 2008Thanks for reading. Later, B.J.