9.12.2008
Everyone Else
Today, I was the cork board. I hung on the wall like decoration. They passed by me, and posted new notes on me with sharp thumb tacks. At first the board wasn't crowded. It was plain, and empty. I felt helpful to allow them post their note onto me; like I was doing a sweet favor. But then three more postings turned into eight. And that eight made me a little unorganized, but manageable. Red notes, black notes; some were torn. Soon though, before I had the chance to clean up the cork, it was a mess. I was a mess. Notes were flying off each of the four corners, some had two-three-four tacks attached to one piece of paper, and some covered up others. Many of them were duplicates, or at least were very much alike. And this, this would have all been just fine. It would have worked. I would have survived today. But no one saw that this board, me, was already full on the side that pressed against the wall. That side was just as full as the other, if not more. And they would have known that if they would have stopped and realized that the board was too used, too crowded to even fit one more tack onto it. That last tack would have fallen out, and the board would have collapsed onto the ground with notes fluttering down following gravity's promise in a careless manor. But it didn't. It, or should I say 'I', hugged the wall with all my might to save everyone else. And it worked. I saved everyone else today. Everyone else.