2009/08/24

I Don't Think We Can Really Be Friends

I just got into a fight with a Now or Later. Human vs. Taffy. Seriously I was under the impression I could enjoy a Now or Later under two circumstances of time, those being "now" or "later." The choice would always be mine and I wouldn't be punished for choosing one over the other.


But it would appear that there is a limit to how late "later" can be. It would appear that after being on hold for a variable amount of time, a certain quadrangular piece of stubborn, green taffy has practiced enough patience, has experienced enough neglect, that she shall not go slighted a single, solitary, second longer. She decides there and then that I am not serious. She decides to make a run for it and to leave me for someone with a sweeter tooth through which sweeter words could be influenced and spoken. Someone who will act on an earlier "now" or on a just as early "later;" she wants to be taken "then" and "there." She should surely consider changing her name to Then and There, it would prove more authentic to her actions and desires.


The Taffy jumped off my bedroom table and onto the floor. With the help of some of the hottest days and nights August has exhibited, she melts. Good riddance, right? Yes, I suppose, only its on my floor that she melts. Right through her little green paper-wrap dress, she poured out as if trying to nake her body, perhaps find a hold of the nearest piece of paper to disguise herself from me. Of course, she doesn't. She doesn't move from where she fell, Now or Later won't alter her position by her power or control, for at that point she has none. It is only when I accidentally step on her that I later notice my sandals making a sticky sound. Funny enough, its a similar enough sound to that a mouth plays when sucking on a Now or Later.


She gives me a big "fuck you" and I half or whole deserve it. I scrape her body off the floor with a painting blade, saying goodbye as the open mouth of the trash bin swallows her down.


To my credit, I am not as bad as all that. I did intend to eventually eat her, but at the moment we met I felt I had enough candy. As much as I did neglect her, I never slighted her, I never meant to intentionally play any ill or malice towards either her, her ego or integrity. Taffy, I have learned can become a regretful subject to neglect. If done over, would I do anything different? Perhaps no. I would never know whether I would want some candy, one can never tell. I am only sorry that she ended up in the trash and not in another mouth, one with appreciative salivary glands in which she could truly come alive. If anything, this fight has left me with sticky sandals and a second thought that is set to go off whenever I desire a Now or Later that leans more for Later than Now.


(I just looked up a picture to use for this blog and realized the candy is not called Now or Later but actually Now and Later, which changes everything. I don't think I'm fond of a candy that demands such an attention. I don't take anything back.)

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