Universally Interesting Man

i am sitting down and staring strangely at the paper i hold in my hands. on it, is written only one word, alone and steadfast in it’s black printed entirety, and i am sitting there - blinking once, twice - trying to make some sense out of what i am reading. i know this word, i whisper to myself. the calligraphic curves of that one word, it fits right into my sight like matching jigsaw puzzles would. like lock and key.

it’s strange to see this familiar word in somewhere that is so unfamiliar. it feels surreal, and somehow quite comical, like when you’re abroad and you see a reference to home. a picture, a flag, a postcard, anything that makes you feel like you are in two places at once. it is a joyful and excited kinda feeling, like, hey what is this doing here?!. i run my fingertips over the word, and i let forth from my lips a small smile, then a little giggle, and finally i burst out laughing.

“oh this is just really weird,” i say in between giggles. “it’s just .. so .. oh, man!” i manage, before dissolving into laughs again.

if my companion on this excursion is perplexed at my reaction, he is doing a good job of hiding it. i feel compelled to explain my behaviour, to say why this one word elicits such a response from me. actually, i probably did - i dont quite remember. i was just so tickled by the whole experience, that i probably revealed in those few minutes some things that i wouldnt usually have said.

i turned the piece of paper around. felt the protective clear wrapper make a squeaky rubbery sound beneath my fingers.

Red, Beautiful, Peace. i read out loud. and i cant help but giggle again. “what the fuck! red beautiful peace!” i say in a mock serious tone. this time, i chuckle like i know a cosmic secret. but my heart is still getting over the dreamlikeness of it all.

i want this piece of paper, i think to myself. i dont know what the hell i’m going to do with it, but i just want it. quickly, i toy with the idea of making the purchase. in the end, i arrive at the question of - why? there is no point to this. it’s not going to accomplish anything, not going to get me what i want. yes it will be unique memorabilia, but do i really want a tangible manifestation of what i prefer to keep in the back of my mind? taking this step of buying this piece of paper, is akin to admitting i want something to remember the whole experience by. it means everything actually meant something to me. and i’m not quite sure if that’s true. it happened so long ago. and it has no future. so what is the point?

i drop the paper back in the pile. “come on, let’s go, it’s too expensive anyway,” i say breezily, grabbing the arm of my patient friend. and then we stroll out of the shop, leaving it behind, moving on to better things, better places, better circumstances.

17 comments June 1st, 2006