Thursday, October 27, 2011

In a box

I think to some extent people are always labeled. Some people are labeled and they walk around. Some people are labeled and put in a box. And some people are labeled, put in a box, and the box is labeled.

Sometimes I feel like the latter of these three. I listen so much that I don't think people take the time to see me and it is easier if I am already put somewhere neatly. Fortunately, this box and label is only in their brain and so I have the ability to be free physically and know who I am.

But it is frustrating to be something else in someone's mind because everything you say, whether it fits within that box or not, is stuffed in there and made to fit. Here's my box . And I sit in it. Tap the top  and the bottom  and the sides. Labeled "Sweet, Naive, Cute." And now I am In your Neat Little Box.

 You don't need to look at me anymore. I am on a shelf  and Jack can pop up from the box and nod his head from the release. You just want agreement. Silent nodding. And you can make me what you want me to be. "Hi Jack! Do you believe the world is flat?" And once you get my nod, you push me back under.


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