I'm writing a character whose moniker is The Walking Cliche. I've written something before about me being a walking cliche but, this one's not me. (Really. Erase that smirk on your face. Read and judge ... or not. You wanna die?) Here's a sample of one of her monologues:
I'm craving for the dependability & comfort of a
cliché moment. Like biting into a Magnum almond bar. Or drowning in the
sweetness of a pastel colored cupcake with an equally sugary name like Vanilla
Sunshine. Hmmm hold on there, those are all slightly expensive clichés. How so cliché bourgeois of me.
Apologies. Okay let’s go down the
‘the-best-things-in-life-are-free’ route: I want that no-bullshit honesty of a cliché moment. Like when two young girls promise they
will be best friends forever. Or when a dog asks for a belly rub and returns it
with adoration & loyalty that knows no bounds. Blue sky, emerald waters,
coconut trees white sand, really, who doesn’t want that? Walking barefoot,
taking pictures of the sunset,
waking up to see the sun rise and with it the promise of a new day. When somebody tells me to take a
hike out of annoyance, I just smile.
Take a hike? Sure, and while doing it I will still take nothing but
pictures. And I will scream the
devils away when I reach the summit (the most cathartic of all clichés). It
sure is much better than screaming into a pillow (but that would work too, if
you had no other choice). There’s nothing more real than the sturdy fixedness
of trees so go on, hug them. It’s
so true what Joyce Kilmer said anyway “I think I shall never see. A poem as lovely as a tree.” (Did I
mention to you I’m blind?) Want to learn how
to survive life? You have two
options, you either swim against the currents or go with the natural flow. Feel
down? Eat chocolate! Dance under
the rain! Do all the cliché
moments that make you feel good, anything to stop you from pulling your hair,
scratching your eyes out or worse of ‘em all, do everything you can to stop you
from eating your own shit. Or
making yourself so spiteful you make other people eat your shit. Ew. Yes, it’s a cliché moment, but still, try to do it with some
class. Like let’s say a cat that
just sits there and looks at you with so much indifference and
superiority. Heck if I had nine
lives I’d be all pompous and royal assed too. And my most favorite cliché of them all, it’s not the
cheerleader who will save the world, no not even the caped crusader or that
flying man in red briefs – love, love will save the world. Yes John Lennon, I’m singing with you,
‘all we need is love’. Yes
Bono, ‘love is a temple love a
higher law’ that even though ‘we’re not the same we get to carry each
other’. And yes Bob Marley, ‘as it
was in the beginning (one love!) so shall it be in the end (one heart!) ….
Let’s get together and feel alright.”
So go ahead. Ride that unicorn, travel on rainbows, be somebody’s
sunshine, kiss under the moonlight, hold hands, jump for joy (and make sure to
take a picture, that’s the cliché rule), catch all those lemons life throws at
you and go shoot tequila, go rock ‘en roll coz really man, punk’s not dead and
rock stars live forever and dreamers free your mind and flower children
legalized it and they were first to get it right: make love, not war. Love moves mountains, love saves, love
is the one ring that will rule us all, love love love … Love is, and will always be, the
answer.
P.S
I was munching on cheese the entire time I was writing
this.
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