30.7.08 | The Penguin And The Sofa
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Gentle reader, you arrive as me and Da Pumpkin are heading towards the end of a relatively normal conversation late one evening.
...I'm tired now, Plebby, i think i'm going off to bed. Nitey nite! Mwah's!
Ok Pumpy, i send you big loves. Mwah's!
I send you big loves back.
I send you a penguin also! For company!
Oh!
(sudden consternation in voice, while tired person tries to come to terms with this alteration of reality)
I don't know what do do with that!
(anxiety in voice)
Oh wait, i know- I'll leave it on the sofa to watch telly....
With a glass of milk...
What about a biscuit, too?
Yes, a penguin biscuit from the fridge.
I hope he can get into the fridge when you're asleep, btw. I bet fridge doors are quite difficult for penguins to open- but maybe it's one of those doors that you can push and it loosens and swings open on a catch and-
Shut it Plebby! You're the one who foisted a penguin totally unreasonably and also quite unrealistically into my living room to watch tv. and now you're trying to work out ways for it to open my fridge door, while i, on the other hand, am quite happy to let it sit on my sofa all cosy for night watching The Blue Planet, by David Attenborough, with a glass of milk to drink and a nice biscuit.
In the end, we both agree to overlook just how the penguin will drink it's milk and eat it's biccy, because, in our minds now... he's there... and cute beyond words and we believe in him with all our hearts.
(He's called Steve, btw... Pumpy didn't want to give him a name and insists that a naming quite spoils the atmosphere, but in my head, he's Steve The Penguin.)
Meanwhile, late at night, a Penguin is sitting on "da Pumpkins" sofa, bathed in the cool cathode blue television light, and realizes that his glass of milk is empty and that his biscuit is finished. So he bounces off the cushions and waddles to the kitchen and the fridge. We watch him disappearing solemnly into the kitchen and hear vague unspecified noises and a bit of creaking. Moments later, he is sitting back on the sofa, listening to the smooth dignified tones of David Attenborough and thoughtfully eating another biscuit or three. Resting carefully on the arm of the sofa is a big glass of milk.
We don't know how it all works. But we know he will still drink the milk and eat the biscuits and appreciate Mr Attenborough's nature programme. It's one of the most beautiful things, ever. It makes us smile and giggle every time we think about it.
3 comments :.
7.7.08 | How God Works (ver 1.0)
I had a dream and you were falling apart inside your head, and there was nothing i could do to stop that.
Nor could i stop you from climbing a tall building and casting yourself from it in a desperate escape attempt from all the troubles you were suffering.
I watched you fall in slow motion and cradled your shattered broken body in my trembling arms. You were gone. Gone forever.
And my mind was wracked with anguish like i had never known before. Like a wet cloth twisted and wrung and torn. That's how my mind felt at your loss.
8:22 am: I awake with tears streaming down my face, as the true meaning of what my life will be like without you or yours without me hits with savage relentless cruelty.
I cannot save you from a life without me. And i do not know how to live a life without you. I am crushed beneath this weight and bereft of hope.
8:24 am My mobile phone pings. A text? At this time of the morning? No-one ever sends me a text in the mornings. They know i'll be asleep.
It's from you. The message reads thus:
Nor could i stop you from climbing a tall building and casting yourself from it in a desperate escape attempt from all the troubles you were suffering.
I watched you fall in slow motion and cradled your shattered broken body in my trembling arms. You were gone. Gone forever.
And my mind was wracked with anguish like i had never known before. Like a wet cloth twisted and wrung and torn. That's how my mind felt at your loss.
8:22 am: I awake with tears streaming down my face, as the true meaning of what my life will be like without you or yours without me hits with savage relentless cruelty.
I cannot save you from a life without me. And i do not know how to live a life without you. I am crushed beneath this weight and bereft of hope.
8:24 am My mobile phone pings. A text? At this time of the morning? No-one ever sends me a text in the mornings. They know i'll be asleep.
It's from you. The message reads thus:
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside of a dog it's too dark to read".
-Marx, Groucho
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I lift my head back and laugh at the double joke. And at that point i know. I know. I know that someone somewhere is looking out for me. Call them God or whatever, but you are one of His children and He works his subtle deeds through you. That also, i know.
One may still shine light into the darkest of places. Possibly not black holes, but hey... nothing in life is perfect. It's going to be a better day. I love you all.
One may still shine light into the darkest of places. Possibly not black holes, but hey... nothing in life is perfect. It's going to be a better day. I love you all.
S.
4 comments :.
LiVEwiRe hollered thusly:
Love the Marx quote (Groucho not Karl). I struggle a little with this post, but not because it isn't wonderful - it is! Truth be told, perhaps one of my faves. I just don't have that belief in anyone nor do they have that belief in me. If I have it, I should get my head checked (it was sort of there once) and if it is had for me, I've done a terribly crafty job of fooling them into thinking I deserve it. So yes, I like it very much if I detach myself. I just can't let myself connect any other way. There would be consequences. And no fun Marx quotes; Groucho or Karl! xo
carlberry hollered thusly:
With a headline like that I was expecting technical drawings and some blueprints. I shall be writing to my MP.
{illyria} hollered thusly:
i've had that dream a few times, but at the end of the day, there was nothing above and beyond me. i don't remember feeling empty though. just really, really pissed of. this was a beautiful post, though, and i wish i could have done it justice with a stellar comment.
carlberry hollered thusly:
Have you seen this yet ?
Watchmen Trailer
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| For Yoli
... who is a very special person and is still crazy enough to love me, even when i want to withdraw from the world and am not always very nice.
I've known you for what must be 3 years now, and you still make me smile every day.
So VJ Sat dedicates this song to you.
We fly balloons on this fuel called love.
S.
1 comments :.
i like to be sent penguins, too. i have a fridge specially molded for penguin flippers, so that glass of milk will always be cold. :)
whimsy becomes you.
So a penguin eating a penguin, isn't that cannibalism ? Or are those things actually for penguins in the way that dog biscuits are for dogs ?
Have I been eating chocolate covered bird food all these years ? (not that it ever stopped me eating the dog biscuits though, but that was just to annoy the dog).
Why ask why? Penguins have magical powers anyway, I'm sure of it. Not standard issue, but the kind that develop just when you need like them. Like for holding a glass of milk...
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