Saturday, December 29, 2007

As I was eating Raisin Bran I pondered...

This is a story about a grape.
There once was...
There once lived a beautiful grape.
It stood tall on top of the highest point of the vine.
All the other grapes envied her,
For she was the most beautiful grape they had ever seen.
Thus she had no friends.
One day a new grape grew next to her.
She was very excited for no grape would ever grow next to her,
And if they did,
They would quickly turn into raisins.
But this grape was different.
He was different.
He noticed her.
Not just for her beauty,
But something else.
He was of course very attracted to her.
But aside from that
There was something different.
They soon grew very close to each other.
She spoke to him of her fears and troubles.
She told him of how she hated being attached to a vine.
She spoke of limitations and constraints.
He reminded her that if it were not for this vine,
Then she would not be as beautiful as she is.
If she were to detach herself from the vine,
Then surely she would turn into a raisin.
She stated that surely life was not all about beauty.
Surely there was more to life than that.
Surely she wanted to escape.
To be free
To explore.
Tomorrow she said "I will do it".
And she did.
And he followed.
And for the first time they felt the ground.
The ground that they constantly stared at.
The ground that had sparked numerous conversations.
The ground that they had only dreamed of touching.
There they sat.
There they sit.
Happy Raisins.

Friday, December 28, 2007

I ate the head of a chocolate Santa

I ate the head of a chocolate Santa,
and I enjoyed it too.
I took off his thin tin clothes off,
and bit his head off.
The more clothes I peeled
The more I found out how terribly deceived I've been.
The detail in his clothes suggested a jolly old man.
What I found underneath was completely different.
"Defective perhaps" is what I thought.
I opened another,
and another.
They all seem to be the same.
They all have the same expression,
The same detail,
The same taste,
They all where the same Santa!
"How could that be" I thought...
If they were to speak would they all sound the same?
Could anything original come from any of them?
If it did then they probably would be sitting now in the defective pile of the factory.
How delicious these must taste I wondered.
If only all Santa's could come defective.
Perhaps I would not consume them,
But enjoy them.
I must write to the factory and ask for all the defective Santas.
I want them,
I need them,
The world needs them!
What do they do with them?
Destroy them?
Or perhaps melt them,
and condition them to fit to the proper mold.
Soon they will be more efficient.
More Santas will be made to fit the proper mold.
They will come out with brighter more colorful packages
To hide the easily meltable interior.
Merry Christmas....