motions within a creative mind not creating

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

the story of the little thing

It was during this one day, a special day. Special because it was extraordinarily chaotic for Things. Special because you would've never have seen this much things around before. There were so many Things. Too many that every thing was fighting with everything else. It was difficult for one Thing to get along with the next Thing. And the simplest Things turned into the most complicated Things, even it was born as a simple thing and not a complicated thing. The easy Things became hard Things. And being hard Things, they didn't want to become easy Things. So on that one chaotic special day, there was a war among the Things.

Now - there was this one Thing that was caught amongst all the other Things. It was a big thing. A perfect collection of little things. A big, perfect thing. Compared to all the other Things, it was the most perfect of all. No Thing would ever think there was a flaw. No Thing would think it would mess itself up given all the chaos with the other Things.

But on that day full of other Things, it saw another little thing. That it thought was the most unassuming, precious thing. It was a challenge. It was something to attain. The big Thing wanted it. Wanted to add it to its wonderful collection of little things.

It wouldn't hurt, to be more perfect. Just by a bit. It's only a little Thing anyway. All the other Things wouldn't notice. They're too busy with everything else.

The Little Thing sat quietly. And watched every Thing argue with everything else. Oblivious to the fact that it could potentially be a big thing. It didn't care, it was fine as it was. In the big scheme of Things, it felt better off being the little, simple, fine-as-is thing.

However, Big Perfect Thing thought otherwise. More little nice things make for a more perfect big thing.

So it went past all the other Things. Stepped over, clamored over, pushed and pulled over all the other warring things.

But because the small thing was too small, it couldn't see the big things that were happening. It couldn't see that some thing became an angry thing. That some other things didn't want to get pushed around.

Until every thing happened so fast. That some Thing was hurled at that beautiful collection of little things. Because all the other things saw that this one big thing was the thing that should be finished. And so the perfection that it was broke into a mass of nice and dead little things. Nice little things, but dead no-things. A perfect big nothing, it then was.

Meanwhile, the Small little thing continued to sit happily on its own. Because in the big battle of things, it was happy that it didn't matter.

Moral of the story: Little things can kill you. Or get you killed. Either way, you die.

dezphaire

strapped in @ 1:13 PM

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