I have a lot of broken things in my life currently and I always have even as a child. I remember our family had a broken color television set that flashed pink with wavy lines that we used to beat until the picture would show for a millisecond. Since my family did not have enough money to repair the television or buy a new one, the beatings continued for quite a while until frustration and anger yielded to hilarity at the absurdity of the television torture. I have a television that will not stay powered on or show a picture that I power on repeatedly thinking the television will somehow return again to working order. I have a damaged flat screen that I also think will rejuvenate itself over time. I have a broken old chair that I keep as an antique and that would surely collapse if I sat on it. There is the strange bird sculpture I bought from a store going out of business that I own now because nobody else would have bought that bizarre thing and it would have been tossed in the trash. I recently had an incident where a ceramic duck I bought from the dollar store fell from the table and cracked in half. I did not throw the broken remains out but searched for the other piece and "crazy glued" that precious duck back together. I have various vintage items and electronics in my possession, some broken, some just what society would term obsolete.
Usually what someone will do if they encounter a broken possession is either throw it in the trash, store it so it will not be seen in its imperfect state, repair it or accept the item for all its grand broken magnificence. The same process goes for "broken" people. I have reached the bizarre state where broken things give me comfort as it has been the norm for most of my life that I have been immersed in toxic, shattered relationships and sketchy cable television connections. Really.
No comments:
Post a Comment