Teddy Bear

So, everyone should be tired of looking at the stereotypes. Everytime you come here, with hope that maybe someone has had a new intelligent thought -- and found only the inane considerations of stereotypical labels...

Perhaps, I'm the only one. The only one who still dreams, still reads, still hopes, still searches for something out there. Perhaps, I'm the only one who remembers.

Then, the question plagues me: where are the people? Where are the voices, where are the words? Where is the inspiration we once had?

I've lost it, too. Lost the passion to write on more than just bits of paper no one ever sees.

Fine. So, you want inspiration.
I'll give you inspiration.
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A tiny little brown teddy bear leans against the back wall of my desk, his little red feet poking up into the air. His velcro hands are stuck to the threads of a rainbow colored scarf. He's been like that since he arrived - three months ago. He's supposed to remind someone of "love". He's supposed to be a Valentine's bear. But sadly, he isn't doing a very good job at it.

We all still hate Valentine's Day, despite popular opinion, don't we?

In spite of our hatred of his only purpose, he's still sitting there with a pink bottle in his arms, waving it at the ceiling. He's saying something that sounds a bit like "For bins and Christ", but he can't be heard too well because he's three inches tall.

Three half-inches tall. And he's got red feet. No hearts on him, but a bottlecap sewn in silk beige thread on his forehead and a jade bird hung around his little three half-inch neck. At least, he looks happy.

I wonder, do we miss him? Maybe we should.

Either way, we're all dying - kids. Let's hold onto the little three half-inch bears with red feet poking up into the air. Maybe they can make us feel better about ourselves...

-RK