The Fire Hazard

Aaron Rosenthal, 17, USA

So listen up for just one second, or perhaps a few minutes and let me get something off my chest. Maybe you'll enjoy it but probably ignore its sickening simplicity, or perhaps appreciate it immensely, most likely the latter; for this will be the longest sentence I've ever written because who am I to tell this flow to end, just because I have the power to type a period whenever I want to doesn't mean I have to; what if I just can't stop typing and this turns out to become a recycled addition to the heap of garbage this literal world threatens to become if people don't stop and look at the junk they write; I mean, take me for instance, I'm a 17 year old 'C' student that swears that one day he'll succeed at something but has never really done too well at much of anything except write. Oh rats, there went that dreaded period everyone's so crazy for. All it does is end something that means to be more than it was just a stroke of a key ago. Fantastically drastic affects a period can have. if misused. But I would never misuse a period. Words talk to me through my fingers and up into my confused soul like a breath from God that hints at something great but never quite gets you there, to where you think you need to be. That's the trouble with people today, they're always thinking they need to be somewhere they're not. Things don't make sense, if they did, we would all be quite confused as to what to do next. Not that that has anything to do with what I'm saying, which, at the moment, even I don't know; but if it's all the same, I think I'll stop writing because one, I'm tired, and two, what if you've already stopped reading? Wow, if you have, thank your lucky stars because no one should be subjected to this phony crap, I mean, of course, I don't think it's phony because I'm just writing what I feel and I'm not stopping to think of words to use that will please the reader because I'd like to think that for whatever reason, my reader is so engulfed in this blabber that he doesn't even care what comes next. That maybe, just maybe, this may be the clearest thing he's ever read. Maybe he's in a state of bliss because he's reading something written by someone who he doesn't know and is making total sense of it. Maybe it doesn't make sense, probably not. And maybe my grammar leaves a bit to be desired, but why should that matter, little symbols shouldn't decide for the reader how he must read words. Let him read them backwards, they're just words that everyone knows and uses everyday. Most people just cant put them in the right order and because of that nothing makes any sense because they don't know how to end a sentence without a preposition. I don't either, I mean, why shouldn't I end a sentence with a preposition. It's all just so darn confusing and clear all at the same time. Every sentence brings rise to something else and I'm stuck in this tunnel and I have to keep moving forward and can't turn around because I'm too bloated with useless crap; derivatives and parts of the skull and experimental analysis and early uses of pesticides and medieval literature. But it all just comes down to sitting with five friends at 1 AM at a table for four at Waffle House and knowing that in a short while, a little moment of happiness will come shooting down into your stomach and you wont ever have to hear the question that everyone's dying to know the answer to; How much longer? "You'll hafta' get two tables, kids, that's a fire hazard." She says, with a wart the size of a pea on the side of her second chin, hanging down and wobbling from side to side. The chin never knows where it's going next, and maybe that's for the best the wart says, maybe it's best to not know, then you'll never fail to meet your expectations. Keep dreaming for something better, but know that if you dream it, you can't all of a sudden achieve it like the poster says. Hate that, hate that poster and listen to your soul, screaming truth into your ear. Hear it, listen to it, but most of all, do it. Thanks kids, I love you all for being along for the ride. It's grand.