“These aren’t even real pearls, are they?” Jared asks with an amused smile, examining my blue dress. He then takes my hand in his and spins me around, which makes me laugh brightly. “You still look good, though. Knockoff pearls or not.”
I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I lean forward to hug him. “Thank you, Jared.”
“Anytime, beautiful.” He says into my ear, voice low and warm. It makes me shiver as we break contact and stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. “You want to know something?”
“What?” I whisper, eyes flitting down to his lips for a moment before looking back up at him. It feels as if we’re the only two people in the room, in the world.
“I’ve never met anyone as wonderful as you. Everything about you is just…amazing.” He exhales and then brings his face closer to mine—only to place a warm kiss on my cheek. It dampens my mood a little, but I brush it off because just being by his side is enough to satisfy.
It was ridiculous really- he had spent so much money, so much time and effort getting everything perfect. He was proposing today, and everything was supposed to be amazing. However, he hadn’t counted on the ring being a fake.
It wasn’t a knockoff watch that I found lying in the gutter. It was a real, genuine, piece of crap digital iron-man thing from a dollar store. That said, the moment after I picked it up and put it on … I was drunk at the time … I met Sheila. That, kids, is how I met your mother.
Somehow the word, knockoff, in itself brings to mind the image of cheap and smelly polyester with gaudy colours. It is rooted in our minds that knockoffs will never live up to the original, authentic stuff.
It’s as if my spirit had divided into shed skin for others,
an umbrella of twisted fortune you’ve somehow now unlocked
as life somehow shrugs me off — yet another soul knockoff.
while i’m confining in the ivy, and am on little lost lily pads laying low;
holding fast til the morning comes, thinking fast; yet moving slow.
I can only wait til the sunrise, princess says, through headlight grin
and I’ll be with you in the sunset, so you win. you win. you win.
He fell to the floor, unaware of the difference between the gun he had purchased and the real deal. At a cheap price and a good size, he had purchased what he thought was the real deal. But sadly, it was not so. It was a knockoff. And it would cost him his life.
“This isn’t an authentic Batman figurine,” scowled Grandma. “This is some cheap knockoff. I know this because of the material it’s made out of.”
The clerk behind the counter turned a very bright shade of pink. I couldn’t help smiling. My grandma was one of the smartest, nerdiest people I knew, a woman who was more into superheroes and comics than I could ever be. And now, she had caught a worker trying to sell a lousy plastic disaster as an expensive item.
“I swear,” Grandma continued, “this looks like you got it out of a Happy Meal. What are you thinking, young man?”
If I could offer you one word of advice for life in the future, it’s this: brand name replacement organs ONLY. I had an off-brand lung implanted when I didn’t want to fork over the cash for a MediTech model replacement. Turns out that having an exploding battery removed from your ribcage is much more costly.
It simulacrum cheap, the sign I mean. It was on the mailbox. Nothing about it stood out except for the pink streak in her hair, queerly the woman standing near seemed to give it life. That’s when I realized the “mailbox” and “sign” were knockoffs. A cheap design seen elsewhere on a grander scale. Like a black hole it ate at life, a fixture of nothing, a reminder of blight and decay. A carelessness for what is deemed a perfunctory task, no art, no soul. This is how I knew not to trust the owner of the building it belonged to, which was not the woman standing in the frame.
fake not real being pushed off of something maybe even getting killed maybe in my mind i might see that as death
;bv lnogfuzkrgnubfauosinowudGHSBUFnbuognbhuWHFjrudyHUFBUHIONUIYGRIEHGAUOIUEAHUGH[UDHGFJBNHDBNFDBHBCV DFJNKLK˚HVUNJURGEKFTDFNAJOKLBsdyuijKLWQNEFDHIW;
There is value in product; not much when they are knockoffs. Fine things are for those who deserve them and for those who do not oftentimes resort to imitations; to feel as privileged without the needed effort. But who are they kidding, really?
She was there, standing in front of me. Either that, or she was an exact replica of her, a knockoff that was made to perfection. She stared back at me the same way I stared at her; none of us expected to see each other, ever again. Or, at least, I know I didn’t.
“It’s a knockoff!” I cried. It was so clear to me. It was a fake. It wasn’t his pin. That means he could still be alive somewhere! Thank god. I’ve got to find him. I need to track him down before it’s too late. Before someone else does.
She made sure to wear it on her right shoulder, so the entire room could see it. More of a shield than a purse, she hoped her new Balenciaga knockoff would protect her from the cool girls who liked to judge for sport.
knockoffs. that’s what we are. we replace and replace and replace; until we don’t even know where we begin and others end. why can’t we be truthful? honest? why can’t we be ourselves? do we truly want to be others? NO. We don’t need to be knockoffs anymore. We can be ourselves. We can be original.
What is real? You know but others might not. To the untrained eye, it may be invisible. To those who are aware they know that it is something trying to claim to be what it is not. You might get away, or you might get caught.
In the 90’s when we lived in Rome, the immigrants from Africa (the Sudan? where?) sold knockoff purses and scarves on the bridges throughout Rome. I know they worked in other Italian cities and they still do, but it was something that was very noteable at the time. I was young and idealistic and knew that these guys were doing the only thing they could to make money and to survive. And, yet I hated what they were doing and I hated being accosted just when I wanted to cross the bridge into Trastevere.
The Rolex wasn’t real. I could tell because he didn’t even hesitate to take it off when he showed it to me. Tucker wasn’t a very spendy sort of person, and, quite frankly, he was also a horrible liar. So I just kissed him on the cheek and rolled my eyes secretly. He was a good man, and I still loved him to the ends of the earth. But the Rolex still wasn’t real.
“These aren’t even real pearls, are they?” Jared asks with an amused smile, examining my blue dress. He then takes my hand in his and spins me around, which makes me laugh brightly. “You still look good, though. Knockoff pearls or not.”
I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I lean forward to hug him. “Thank you, Jared.”
“Anytime, beautiful.” He says into my ear, voice low and warm. It makes me shiver as we break contact and stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. “You want to know something?”
“What?” I whisper, eyes flitting down to his lips for a moment before looking back up at him. It feels as if we’re the only two people in the room, in the world.
“I’ve never met anyone as wonderful as you. Everything about you is just…amazing.” He exhales and then brings his face closer to mine—only to place a warm kiss on my cheek. It dampens my mood a little, but I brush it off because just being by his side is enough to satisfy.
He couldn’t believe what was happening.
It was ridiculous really- he had spent so much money, so much time and effort getting everything perfect. He was proposing today, and everything was supposed to be amazing. However, he hadn’t counted on the ring being a fake.
You are just a knockoff
I am an original.
I have created something new
But you are just a copy.
I just be
while you just try.
You want to be
But I am.
It wasn’t a knockoff watch that I found lying in the gutter. It was a real, genuine, piece of crap digital iron-man thing from a dollar store. That said, the moment after I picked it up and put it on … I was drunk at the time … I met Sheila. That, kids, is how I met your mother.
Somehow the word, knockoff, in itself brings to mind the image of cheap and smelly polyester with gaudy colours. It is rooted in our minds that knockoffs will never live up to the original, authentic stuff.
It’s as if my spirit had divided into shed skin for others,
an umbrella of twisted fortune you’ve somehow now unlocked
as life somehow shrugs me off — yet another soul knockoff.
while i’m confining in the ivy, and am on little lost lily pads laying low;
holding fast til the morning comes, thinking fast; yet moving slow.
I can only wait til the sunrise, princess says, through headlight grin
and I’ll be with you in the sunset, so you win. you win. you win.
He fell to the floor, unaware of the difference between the gun he had purchased and the real deal. At a cheap price and a good size, he had purchased what he thought was the real deal. But sadly, it was not so. It was a knockoff. And it would cost him his life.
“This isn’t an authentic Batman figurine,” scowled Grandma. “This is some cheap knockoff. I know this because of the material it’s made out of.”
The clerk behind the counter turned a very bright shade of pink. I couldn’t help smiling. My grandma was one of the smartest, nerdiest people I knew, a woman who was more into superheroes and comics than I could ever be. And now, she had caught a worker trying to sell a lousy plastic disaster as an expensive item.
“I swear,” Grandma continued, “this looks like you got it out of a Happy Meal. What are you thinking, young man?”
If I could offer you one word of advice for life in the future, it’s this: brand name replacement organs ONLY. I had an off-brand lung implanted when I didn’t want to fork over the cash for a MediTech model replacement. Turns out that having an exploding battery removed from your ribcage is much more costly.
C’est comme une paralysie; il ne ressent rien en touchant le sol. Tout mouvement est vain, son esprit embrumé mais il ne sent aucune douleur.
A knockoff is a copy or imitation of a popular, or name brand article of clothing, or object.
It simulacrum cheap, the sign I mean. It was on the mailbox. Nothing about it stood out except for the pink streak in her hair, queerly the woman standing near seemed to give it life. That’s when I realized the “mailbox” and “sign” were knockoffs. A cheap design seen elsewhere on a grander scale. Like a black hole it ate at life, a fixture of nothing, a reminder of blight and decay. A carelessness for what is deemed a perfunctory task, no art, no soul. This is how I knew not to trust the owner of the building it belonged to, which was not the woman standing in the frame.
fake not real being pushed off of something maybe even getting killed maybe in my mind i might see that as death
;bv lnogfuzkrgnubfauosinowudGHSBUFnbuognbhuWHFjrudyHUFBUHIONUIYGRIEHGAUOIUEAHUGH[UDHGFJBNHDBNFDBHBCV DFJNKLK˚HVUNJURGEKFTDFNAJOKLBsdyuijKLWQNEFDHIW;
There is value in product; not much when they are knockoffs. Fine things are for those who deserve them and for those who do not oftentimes resort to imitations; to feel as privileged without the needed effort. But who are they kidding, really?
She was there, standing in front of me. Either that, or she was an exact replica of her, a knockoff that was made to perfection. She stared back at me the same way I stared at her; none of us expected to see each other, ever again. Or, at least, I know I didn’t.
“It’s a knockoff!” I cried. It was so clear to me. It was a fake. It wasn’t his pin. That means he could still be alive somewhere! Thank god. I’ve got to find him. I need to track him down before it’s too late. Before someone else does.
She made sure to wear it on her right shoulder, so the entire room could see it. More of a shield than a purse, she hoped her new Balenciaga knockoff would protect her from the cool girls who liked to judge for sport.
“Knockoff that silliness!” That is a lousy knockoff of a Coach handbag. “Knockoff your laziness.”
She never bothered to worry about buying herself a knockoff purse, hell she couldn’t even think of buying a real one right now, so why pretend.
knockoffs. that’s what we are. we replace and replace and replace; until we don’t even know where we begin and others end. why can’t we be truthful? honest? why can’t we be ourselves? do we truly want to be others? NO. We don’t need to be knockoffs anymore. We can be ourselves. We can be original.
I do know the knockoff.
what this?
Knockoff.
Knock off.
Knockoff between both of us.
Fighting.
Knock Knock.
Who’s there?
cheap, poorly made version of something of value.
The woman stared at the necklace, her dim eyes narrowed as the words slipped out between her lips like a hiss. “That’s just a knockoff! You idiots!”
What is real? You know but others might not. To the untrained eye, it may be invisible. To those who are aware they know that it is something trying to claim to be what it is not. You might get away, or you might get caught.
In the 90’s when we lived in Rome, the immigrants from Africa (the Sudan? where?) sold knockoff purses and scarves on the bridges throughout Rome. I know they worked in other Italian cities and they still do, but it was something that was very noteable at the time. I was young and idealistic and knew that these guys were doing the only thing they could to make money and to survive. And, yet I hated what they were doing and I hated being accosted just when I wanted to cross the bridge into Trastevere.
The Rolex wasn’t real. I could tell because he didn’t even hesitate to take it off when he showed it to me. Tucker wasn’t a very spendy sort of person, and, quite frankly, he was also a horrible liar. So I just kissed him on the cheek and rolled my eyes secretly. He was a good man, and I still loved him to the ends of the earth. But the Rolex still wasn’t real.
Knockoff was a movie starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. Otherwise known as JCVD. Best movies include: Bloodsport, Kickboxer, Timecop, and the like.