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Description
Good Morning

Come.  Sit down.  Let’s talk.  I have ever so much I want to share with you.  But first let me tell you, it’s been a long decade.  Can you remember?  Ten years ago… when you were beautiful?  Just at the wrong time.

But you had the right stuff.

Well, that’s all behind us now, sometimes things get in the way.  You get pregnant, ever swelling and expanding. Get in an accident, scarring you perfect, blemish-free face forever.  Or when neo-fascists, drawing any and all inspiration from Hitler and his Nazis in an era by-gone, violently seize all control of government, absolutely destroying the beauty industry, effectively axing your job.  Either that or a concrete slab peels from a sky-scraper surrendering itself back to the Earth, falls from the twelfth floor, rushing towards you at a thousand million feet every second, banishes you to the throes of a big, fat coma for the better part of nine and a half years.

Either or.  Unfortunately, the last bit happened to you.  It would almost be funny if it were so tragic.  Almost worthy of a second thought twelve years ago, but now, that’s gone.  No one wants to listen.  But I’m all ears.  I’ve been listening for ever so long.  I need to hear your voice.

So let’s go back.  Come on.  This will be healthy, I promise.

T minus twelve years and counting.  Two fingers down your throat, repenting.  Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.  Science meets humanity half way.  You’re sorry, and you’re hungry.  You’re sorry that you’re hungry.  But apologies won’t buy you anything from them.  Only from me.  I want to forgive you.  You were becoming ever so pretty, on the outside at least-  inside, most people are dying.

But you wanted to die beautiful.  So beautiful.  You thought they’d remember you.

You’re giving back all of those chocolate bars you took- bite-sized and tempting your every incentive- against your better judgement.  You pay the juice back through the nose, and you think you deserve this all.  Inside the toilet bowl is your greatest enemy, a foe you almost gave in to, but triumphed over.  Spills of colours and textures everywhere, defeated- I remember you wondering if this is your masterpiece.

You wipe the shame from your heart and the blinding tears in your eyes, no one has to know, but I do.  You thought the only one who had to suffer was you, and I think that you completely forgot about me.  Had we grown that distant?

I sometimes wonder, why I love your smile so much, when you use it for such evil.  That white smile, so delicate as it hung in your decaying mouth, ready to guise up bliss in an instant.   You’re faking it.  You know it in your bones.  Speaking of which, have you been getting your calcium lately?  That white smile means nothing in front of your dead eyes, but, as far as your teeth go, we know why they’re so white.  Why you’re always chewing mints or popping gum.  Well, whiter teeth just made you more attractive right?

That’s two years before the day you found out.  The day you learned.  The very day you discovered your country at war.  During the Anderson wars, nothing was official.  But everyone knew what resulted, and what was an act of war.  And what wasn’t.  You were not.

Suffocating for attention.  Dying for the spotlight, if only for that moment.  I’ve loved you since before you were born, but you’re constantly ignoring me.  Sarah, can you hear me?

Empty eyes, painted black to accentuate that deep blue corpse colour of your iris.  Blinking once, twice.  Eyelashes fluttering closed, and trembling open again.  Once.  And again.  Your heart is faltering, trying to keep pace.  Sarah, I don’t think you’re getting your B-vitamins.

Eating well is part of a healthy lifestyle, one that they could use your picture to recreate in an ad for anything.  A toy.  A home.  Insurance.  But it’s not real, because, the irony is, that to be the one acting out that life, you have to do everything in your power to rally against a healthy, balanced life.  Nobody would want to take your picture.  Nobody would want to spend three seconds of their life glossing over you.

You’re still too fat.  Maybe binging will put on the weight, even if you repent afterwards.  Maybe you’ve slacked off with your exercises.  Have you been getting your recommended daily intake of zinc, Sarah?  You’re just not beautiful enough for them, yet.  And you need to realize you may never be.

It’s two and a half years of this.  These thoughts- driving you on and on- for two years.

Two and a half years and maybe that building saved your life.  Sparing you, as it buried you in a million million pounds of concrete, ashtrays, and office furniture.  Everyone else dying to come to your rescue.

You never felt the explosion, but let me assure you, the moorings of the foundation certainly did.  Four-hundred and thirty seven others felt it too.  Only you survived.  For the first time, people started to take your picture.

You were front page news.  Everyone loved you, for a day.  Beautiful, for a moment.  But it’s long gone.  It’s up to you to make yourself beautiful for all to see, but you’re going about it all wrong.

Not that kind of beauty Sarah, have you been getting your essential fatty acids?

It was that day, because of you that the government acknowledged its participation in the underground Anderson wars.  Because of you, the world found out about the ethnic cleansings happening world-wide.  Your incident only a little repercussion.  But because of you, the Anderson wars came to an end, Sarah, but that doesn’t mean anyone will remember you.  To them, you’re pretty, but not enough.  To me, you’re everything.  You’re missing my point.  You’ve been so busy trying to catch everyone else by the eye or the pants, but you’ve had me by the heart all along.  You spent so much time trying to get into their life you’ve forgotten abut your own.

No, Sarah, have you haven’t been getting your recommended intake of life.  Of hope.  Of love.  I love you so much, it‘s time for you to wake up.  Good morning, Darling, didn’t you know that you were beautiful all along?

Description
Good Morning

Come.  Sit down.  Let’s talk.  I have ever so much I want to share with you.  But first let me tell you, it’s been a long decade.  Can you remember?  Ten years ago… when you were beautiful?  Just at the wrong time.

But you had the right stuff.

Well, that’s all behind us now, sometimes things get in the way.  You get pregnant, ever swelling and expanding. Get in an accident, scarring you perfect, blemish-free face forever.  Or when neo-fascists, drawing any and all inspiration from Hitler and his Nazis in an era by-gone, violently seize all control of government, absolutely destroying the beauty industry, effectively axing your job.  Either that or a concrete slab peels from a sky-scraper surrendering itself back to the Earth, falls from the twelfth floor, rushing towards you at a thousand million feet every second, banishes you to the throes of a big, fat coma for the better part of nine and a half years.

Either or.  Unfortunately, the last bit happened to you.  It would almost be funny if it were so tragic.  Almost worthy of a second thought twelve years ago, but now, that’s gone.  No one wants to listen.  But I’m all ears.  I’ve been listening for ever so long.  I need to hear your voice.

So let’s go back.  Come on.  This will be healthy, I promise.

T minus twelve years and counting.  Two fingers down your throat, repenting.  Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.  Science meets humanity half way.  You’re sorry, and you’re hungry.  You’re sorry that you’re hungry.  But apologies won’t buy you anything from them.  Only from me.  I want to forgive you.  You were becoming ever so pretty, on the outside at least-  inside, most people are dying.

But you wanted to die beautiful.  So beautiful.  You thought they’d remember you.

You’re giving back all of those chocolate bars you took- bite-sized and tempting your every incentive- against your better judgement.  You pay the juice back through the nose, and you think you deserve this all.  Inside the toilet bowl is your greatest enemy, a foe you almost gave in to, but triumphed over.  Spills of colours and textures everywhere, defeated- I remember you wondering if this is your masterpiece.

You wipe the shame from your heart and the blinding tears in your eyes, no one has to know, but I do.  You thought the only one who had to suffer was you, and I think that you completely forgot about me.  Had we grown that distant?

I sometimes wonder, why I love your smile so much, when you use it for such evil.  That white smile, so delicate as it hung in your decaying mouth, ready to guise up bliss in an instant.   You’re faking it.  You know it in your bones.  Speaking of which, have you been getting your calcium lately?  That white smile means nothing in front of your dead eyes, but, as far as your teeth go, we know why they’re so white.  Why you’re always chewing mints or popping gum.  Well, whiter teeth just made you more attractive right?

That’s two years before the day you found out.  The day you learned.  The very day you discovered your country at war.  During the Anderson wars, nothing was official.  But everyone knew what resulted, and what was an act of war.  And what wasn’t.  You were not.

Suffocating for attention.  Dying for the spotlight, if only for that moment.  I’ve loved you since before you were born, but you’re constantly ignoring me.  Sarah, can you hear me?

Empty eyes, painted black to accentuate that deep blue corpse colour of your iris.  Blinking once, twice.  Eyelashes fluttering closed, and trembling open again.  Once.  And again.  Your heart is faltering, trying to keep pace.  Sarah, I don’t think you’re getting your B-vitamins.

Eating well is part of a healthy lifestyle, one that they could use your picture to recreate in an ad for anything.  A toy.  A home.  Insurance.  But it’s not real, because, the irony is, that to be the one acting out that life, you have to do everything in your power to rally against a healthy, balanced life.  Nobody would want to take your picture.  Nobody would want to spend three seconds of their life glossing over you.

You’re still too fat.  Maybe binging will put on the weight, even if you repent afterwards.  Maybe you’ve slacked off with your exercises.  Have you been getting your recommended daily intake of zinc, Sarah?  You’re just not beautiful enough for them, yet.  And you need to realize you may never be.

It’s two and a half years of this.  These thoughts- driving you on and on- for two years.

Two and a half years and maybe that building saved your life.  Sparing you, as it buried you in a million million pounds of concrete, ashtrays, and office furniture.  Everyone else dying to come to your rescue.

You never felt the explosion, but let me assure you, the moorings of the foundation certainly did.  Four-hundred and thirty seven others felt it too.  Only you survived.  For the first time, people started to take your picture.

You were front page news.  Everyone loved you, for a day.  Beautiful, for a moment.  But it’s long gone.  It’s up to you to make yourself beautiful for all to see, but you’re going about it all wrong.

Not that kind of beauty Sarah, have you been getting your essential fatty acids?

It was that day, because of you that the government acknowledged its participation in the underground Anderson wars.  Because of you, the world found out about the ethnic cleansings happening world-wide.  Your incident only a little repercussion.  But because of you, the Anderson wars came to an end, Sarah, but that doesn’t mean anyone will remember you.  To them, you’re pretty, but not enough.  To me, you’re everything.  You’re missing my point.  You’ve been so busy trying to catch everyone else by the eye or the pants, but you’ve had me by the heart all along.  You spent so much time trying to get into their life you’ve forgotten abut your own.

No, Sarah, have you haven’t been getting your recommended intake of life.  Of hope.  Of love.  I love you so much, it‘s time for you to wake up.  Good morning, Darling, didn’t you know that you were beautiful all along?