Poor Old Chair

A half backed chair presents itself in sheepish expression, inviting the boy to sit on him. But before he chooses to sit on it, he has to put a pillow to prevent his back from hurting, for the chair has grown old and frail, and his bones are pointed. The boy wakes up in utter disgust from the floor. Wakes up to another day, another stupid day closer to the end. He follows the floor towards the chair, puts a red towel on its back, and adjusts his bottox on the seat. The chair gives away a low creak, may be in greating. He's a good chair, very educated, very courtious, very gentlemanly. If he would have been born in the 18th century, he might have been assosiated in society with the best gentlemen, but unfortunately he belongs to our time. He cant even complain, or question it. Who does he ask or blame? Its not as if he was asked before being sent to this world. We are all created in some hot furnace and then moulded in another and then sent off to be sold to some low rated shop, to satisfy someone elses comforts and desires or greed or lust,for whichever the need be; in this case for the boy to sit. So he never complains, because he knows its only futile and painful. He has read many a books sitting by the table and he has aquired a sky full of wisdom. But look at him, he cant even share it with our boy, because by the time he starts to creak, the creak already ends. Oh poor old chair, i wish i could help you, but i apologise, we are all in one way or the other the same. we all become half backed by the time we have finished reading as much as you have. and then we realise that its apparently useless, because no one will understand. oh poor old chair, this is not our home, this is just a voyage, we shall reach home soon; all alike. The end of the journey, joins us all in a bond and we become; colorless; and formless; and needless. So we become harmonious, out of compultion. But until the journey we are to distinguish and be distinguished, accepted and discarded, bought and sold, molded and destroyed. This is us! just commodities to satisfy needs, the real one alive is money. He can be happy and do what he wishes, we just serve him, for better or worse. And return to scrap before, as i mentioned returning to nothingness. But why am i telling you this? you already know the process and the result. But poor old chair what of the boy? the sweet boy! the boy you supported for so long. Dont shake my friend, dont! i suggest you let him be.