If the personalities I’ve fallen for were objects, my life might have been simpler. If infatuations were inanimate, the complexity of attraction diminishes.
If they were objects, I’ve been in love with a razor blade. Sharp and wise, it can slice your skin if you let it. But it’s beautiful: in the warmth and honesty of sunlight it can glimmer its genre of beauty into your heart so you would never forget it.
If they were objects, I’ve fallen for a piano. Classic and intimidating with its size and splendor… but if you open the cover, the most beautiful of melodies comes out. After awhile, pianos play too much of the same sickly sweet melody, and you wish for harmony.
If they were objects, I’ve danced with a marijuana leaf. Perfectly proportional and harmless looking! But dry it out and feel its affect on your body, and you wish you’d never picked it from the plant. Nothing really matters, and you sort of want to do it again. And again. But nothing matters. So you stay that way.
If they were objects, I’ve flirted with a Myspace page. Never forget that behind all the crap on a social network profile page, there is a creator with enough intent to hook you in.
If they were objects, I’ve been in love with a mirror… a mysterious piece of reflective glass. Look inside and see yourself, but good luck looking away. Crystalline and angular, you ponder your own face. But ponder too long and you’ll forget the rest of the world exists.
If they were objects, I’ve pondered a vase of blown glass. Awkward and bulky in size and shape, yet so complexly beautiful if you take the time to stare. With so much careful timing and effort involved, sometimes you don’t know what’s good enough to put inside of it.
If they were objects, I’ve waltzed around a cigarette. Disgusting to the eye. But light one up and inhale its sweet toxins into your innocent lungs… and you’re done for in a whirlwind of addiction. You don’t want to be caught with it, but you can’t walk away from it without some source of outside help.
If they were objects, I’ve fallen hard for a bicycle. Unlike anything, a bike can get you to where you want to go. But not without effort on your part. With bikes, it is important that you remember that you have to work just as hard as your means of transportation. An equality between bike and rider. Hard to put together, but easy to jump on and get to a place you want to go.
In any sense, there’s less to figure out with objects. Objects can’t change, nor do they desire to. If they were objects, I’d never have gotten this far.