you are my chosen method of self-torment, of self-hate
my own injected poison; I am yours to mutilate.
track marks that bleed in secret, lacerations that can’t be seen
wounds I sew together with words that I don’t mean.
television consumes our everyday lives. but it also helps us get lost in the moment. the moment of characters, settings, images. takes up time yet is used in a form of therapy. love or hate it.
The television blared away, night and day. But the apartment building was old, and well built, so the noise made it no further than the thick stone walls. John’s hand lay on the remote control, but never touched the buttons. In his lap was a TV guide from June of 1983. He had apparently sat down to watch “Hill Street Blues” when the aneurism took his life.
The big television stared down at the little child. He liked the look of it, liked the images cascading across the screen. The more he watched the more he felt engrossed in the product on the tv. Little did he know it was rotting his brain. Little did he know that there was a whole world outside his door waiting to be explored. But why look outside when there are all the pretty images on the television.
I used to wonder what is what like when television didn’t exist. The wonders of the world had to be experienced through writing or photography. Ever wonder what life would be like without the technology we have in this day and age? Hard to ponder, isn’t it.
It is a constant laugh track, you see. An idealized version of people around us. Every step is recorded, every word documented. Sometimes I wish I led a life like that one. Where everything I did was remembered. Kept close to some people. That I was important in some way other than simply living.
I stare blankly at the screen of the television, my mind feeling empty yet heavy. The remote is resting in the palm of my hand and I can’t bring myself to turn the TV on, because what’s the use? What’s the point of anything anymore?
we stared at the screen, static ringing through our ears and the picture quality low, but we still watched. perhaps it was the late night drowsiness that kept our interest in the television, or perhaps it was the fact that we were doing this, together. alone in the dark with nothing but a screen and each other as we experienced the same flashing images, the same story. it drew us closer in ways we didn’t realize
Her eyes were glued to the box in front of her. This was how she had grown up; stuck in front of a machine that poured information into her little, impressionable mind like a jet stream. She sat wide-eyed and tight-lipped, taking everything in without ever being able to spit anything out. It was no wonder her young mind was a whirring hurricane of worries.
The televison is there everyday for me. Providing me my view of the world. My perception of reality is formed with each show I watch, each news story I see, each commerical that plays. I would be nothing without the televesion.
Television. Nothing to watch too many channels to choose from. Nowadays we don’t watch that much tv but mostly we spend our time on computers.
” Mom! I want to watch cartoons.” said five years old Carlo tugging his mom’s shirt.
“Mom! I wanted to watch another show!.” said two years old Sara.
“Carlo, you have to share with Sara. You can exchange later.!” Their mom said.
Television. So many shows to choose from. Very good imaginative people. We can watch also our favorite actors and actresses. Left us thingking, or gives us bountiful information.
folded in half on a thursday night, breathing deep. remembering the feelings you’ve lost (even that feeling of loss). times when all goodness meant you hadn’t yet thought to make contingency plans. your lungs are bigger now.
childhood: the corner of the local library, painted to look like the sea, the lighthouse column a solitary rising giant. a warm afternoon spent writing apology letters in detention, on the side of a kindergarten class learning their “then” and “than”s. mother, on her knees before you, asking you not to be angry anymore. drawing pictures of little girls in little dresses at po po’s; she stuck them to the walls with the stickers from her fruit. the hallway you learned to run down, where you also learned to sink into dark. waiting to talk about your day until the sun set, until you couldn’t find the words anymore.
the misuse of memory; trying to convince myself i existed in someone’s heart, trying again and again to feel whole.
My mother has literally thrown the television set out the window. I have seen it splinter into plastic and glass fragments on the pavement below, very nearly hitting a homeless man as he slunk by with his garbage bag-filled shopping cart, one wheel squeaking harmoniously with the evening traffic.
From a distance, I can see the wires of the television, gaping, from its now freshly opened mouth. Reds and blacks and whites, all clustered around flame – bronze flame.
We watch the box every day, like worshiping some square idol. You’d think it made our lives longer instead of shortening them. How much productivity have they stolen?
The lights flicker from the hazy screen, beaming shades of gold and purple and shining colours you’d only ever dreamed of, even though you know that it’s really only a combination of three.
It’s a lot like humanity, you realise, the fundamental states of human beings twisting and revolving into the complex paradigms and paradoxical complications that form the beautiful juxtaposition of life.
How much time I’ve devoted to you.
Still you do nothing for me,
even so I can’t help being mesmerized by you.
At last I’ve found some thing to set me free.
Television has become more and more annoying to me over the past few years. We are exposed to our “idiot boxes” everywhere. At home, school, the gym. It’s overwhelming. Sad. Constant visual stimulation has left many of us numb and unmotivated, as if we’ve actually seen all of the wonderful things in this world with our own eyes, rather than with the eye of a camera.
Sometimes you have to turn it off. Sit in silence or talk to someone who you have never actually spoken to before. Learn something deep or meaningful—add purpose to your life and be willing to enjoy the awkward pauses, tender thoughts, and peaceful atmosphere that can all be brought upon by a simply switch to the off position of the television.
I don’t even know why, but I found myself sitting in front of the television with Mark. His eyes were locked on the glow of the set and I seemed to not even be an afterthought. I reminded myself that the only person at fault in this situation was me as I knew that I would be disappointed. I should have ignored his texts, I should have fought against my stupidity.
The TV blared as she tried to focus on the words she needed to write, the ones that her friend needed written most. It was supposed to be a Eulogy but all she seemed to be able to do was stare at a blank page and watch the world go by.
Yawning, I tried to block Joey from my mind. Once again, he had broken up with me. My only comfort was found in two single things: rocky-road ice cream and T.V. Oh, wait! Joey was texting me, apologizing! This one sounded sincere, so it’d probably last until next week; the longest we’d have ever been together.
The television flickered its blue light across the girl’s face as she watched it, pretending to be enraptured. Her mother was in the room next door, yelling at her father. She winced when she heard glass shatter. Who had thrown it? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
He’s sitting on the mold green sofa, half-sunk in its full-balled surface. The remote in his hand is light and plastic. The blanket wrapped around him is the warmest thing he’s ever felt.
They came from inside the television. Hundreds and hundreds of spiders of all species and sizes. It made one wonder what other sinister things there were in the factory.
And that’s when I knew that I was brain dead. I could feel, look, and touch everything. I could move, but I could not think. I could look, but I could not see. And I knew that the second I looked at the television and saw the static screen.
What did we do in the early days of television? When there were only a few channels and television went off the air at midnight? We played outside in the street with the other neighbor kids or played board games and cards. We listened to our transister radios and sang along with our favorite singer or group. We watched bowling on a Sunday morning because that was the best thing on at that time. Or better yet, I watched roller derby with Dick Lane announcing. Whoa Nelly !!!
She smiled, blithe and crooked, washed in the blue, fizzy glow of the television.
“Who were you expecting?” Everything was the same, from the flip at the end of her hair to the hate flickering in her eyes like changing channels.
“Not you, Katja.”
“You never were.”
The television flickered eerily in the background, sending flashes of blue and white and every other color across the room. Still, at least it kept me from having to search the inky darkness that pervaded the rest of the room in order to find her.
“Tala?” I called softly as I moved across the floor slowly, carefully avoiding the half-empty takeout containers and empty bottles.
“Go away,”
We are all televisions now; it just seemed the obvious step forward. Televisions don’t age – you can just replace your set with the latest model when it comes out. When you heat up too much, they just unplug you for a bit, and a couple of hours later, hey presto! There you are, projecting whoever or whatever you want to be.
once upon a time i was watching the television and all of a sudden i got onto an adult channel and tons of gay porn came up and i sat there, in aw watching. i got a boner and starting masturbating furiously, but im not gay so i dont understand why i finally had finished and thought that was very gay of myself
It didn’t surprise anyone when the news came on television. Everyone in the room already knew about it. The announcer’s voice trembling with excitement said the magic words. Two worlds one word peace earth beings!
the one eyed devil. this is the box that we all have in our homes that compels us to sit and stare at it’s wares all day and night. we are all slaves to this as our information source. we assume that every home has it. it has become standard. trash. filth.
Entertaining angels
and often demons.
Both wait to strike
different arteries
of the heart.
How will you defend
your spirit?
Are you training? Are you strong?
Are you waiting for someone to come along
to save you?
No one will arrive
unless you open the door.
He’s knocking.
What do you have to lose?
Just your life.
There once was a tv called bob. He had two legs and hands like the muffin man. He always knew that he was different, but one day he felt the full impact of this difference. His family threw him into the endless expanse of the Grand Canyon.
i just stared; what else was i meant to do? the noises drifted in from next door, things that no-one in their life should ever hear. with every minute their voices got angrier and more bitter. Escape was the best thing. I turned up the volume and let the story take me to a new world.
Turn the television off. Explore the realities surrounding you. There is more to life than television. Face each other and make your next move. What’s it gonna be boy? Yes or No…
Oh and the dribble and drawble reaches from the screen and bleeds into nonplussed eyes that gaze without a soul. What is left in this world, while madmen scream for freedom we sit and stare. We sit and stare. Who’s mad now?
She turned on the television only to find her self sad. The news had nothing happy to share. She was already feeling blue from not getting time off for the holidays. Now all this reporting on what is not right in the world. She knew she should reach out and turn it off yet she was drawn to allow the deep dark stories to catch her attention. She wanted to look away and look at both.
I was sitting on the couch, watching the television screen. Not really aware of what was on it. Just thinking. When had everything gone so wrong? How could everything have come to such a terrible climax? I knew then I wouldn’t be satisfied until I confronted her.
you are my chosen method of self-torment, of self-hate
my own injected poison; I am yours to mutilate.
track marks that bleed in secret, lacerations that can’t be seen
wounds I sew together with words that I don’t mean.
television consumes our everyday lives. but it also helps us get lost in the moment. the moment of characters, settings, images. takes up time yet is used in a form of therapy. love or hate it.
The television blared away, night and day. But the apartment building was old, and well built, so the noise made it no further than the thick stone walls. John’s hand lay on the remote control, but never touched the buttons. In his lap was a TV guide from June of 1983. He had apparently sat down to watch “Hill Street Blues” when the aneurism took his life.
The big television stared down at the little child. He liked the look of it, liked the images cascading across the screen. The more he watched the more he felt engrossed in the product on the tv. Little did he know it was rotting his brain. Little did he know that there was a whole world outside his door waiting to be explored. But why look outside when there are all the pretty images on the television.
I used to wonder what is what like when television didn’t exist. The wonders of the world had to be experienced through writing or photography. Ever wonder what life would be like without the technology we have in this day and age? Hard to ponder, isn’t it.
It is a constant laugh track, you see. An idealized version of people around us. Every step is recorded, every word documented. Sometimes I wish I led a life like that one. Where everything I did was remembered. Kept close to some people. That I was important in some way other than simply living.
I stare blankly at the screen of the television, my mind feeling empty yet heavy. The remote is resting in the palm of my hand and I can’t bring myself to turn the TV on, because what’s the use? What’s the point of anything anymore?
we stared at the screen, static ringing through our ears and the picture quality low, but we still watched. perhaps it was the late night drowsiness that kept our interest in the television, or perhaps it was the fact that we were doing this, together. alone in the dark with nothing but a screen and each other as we experienced the same flashing images, the same story. it drew us closer in ways we didn’t realize
Her eyes were glued to the box in front of her. This was how she had grown up; stuck in front of a machine that poured information into her little, impressionable mind like a jet stream. She sat wide-eyed and tight-lipped, taking everything in without ever being able to spit anything out. It was no wonder her young mind was a whirring hurricane of worries.
The televison is there everyday for me. Providing me my view of the world. My perception of reality is formed with each show I watch, each news story I see, each commerical that plays. I would be nothing without the televesion.
Television. Nothing to watch too many channels to choose from. Nowadays we don’t watch that much tv but mostly we spend our time on computers.
” Mom! I want to watch cartoons.” said five years old Carlo tugging his mom’s shirt.
“Mom! I wanted to watch another show!.” said two years old Sara.
“Carlo, you have to share with Sara. You can exchange later.!” Their mom said.
Television. So many shows to choose from. Very good imaginative people. We can watch also our favorite actors and actresses. Left us thingking, or gives us bountiful information.
folded in half on a thursday night, breathing deep. remembering the feelings you’ve lost (even that feeling of loss). times when all goodness meant you hadn’t yet thought to make contingency plans. your lungs are bigger now.
childhood: the corner of the local library, painted to look like the sea, the lighthouse column a solitary rising giant. a warm afternoon spent writing apology letters in detention, on the side of a kindergarten class learning their “then” and “than”s. mother, on her knees before you, asking you not to be angry anymore. drawing pictures of little girls in little dresses at po po’s; she stuck them to the walls with the stickers from her fruit. the hallway you learned to run down, where you also learned to sink into dark. waiting to talk about your day until the sun set, until you couldn’t find the words anymore.
the misuse of memory; trying to convince myself i existed in someone’s heart, trying again and again to feel whole.
My mother has literally thrown the television set out the window. I have seen it splinter into plastic and glass fragments on the pavement below, very nearly hitting a homeless man as he slunk by with his garbage bag-filled shopping cart, one wheel squeaking harmoniously with the evening traffic.
From a distance, I can see the wires of the television, gaping, from its now freshly opened mouth. Reds and blacks and whites, all clustered around flame – bronze flame.
We watch the box every day, like worshiping some square idol. You’d think it made our lives longer instead of shortening them. How much productivity have they stolen?
The lights flicker from the hazy screen, beaming shades of gold and purple and shining colours you’d only ever dreamed of, even though you know that it’s really only a combination of three.
It’s a lot like humanity, you realise, the fundamental states of human beings twisting and revolving into the complex paradigms and paradoxical complications that form the beautiful juxtaposition of life.
How much time I’ve devoted to you.
Still you do nothing for me,
even so I can’t help being mesmerized by you.
At last I’ve found some thing to set me free.
Television has become more and more annoying to me over the past few years. We are exposed to our “idiot boxes” everywhere. At home, school, the gym. It’s overwhelming. Sad. Constant visual stimulation has left many of us numb and unmotivated, as if we’ve actually seen all of the wonderful things in this world with our own eyes, rather than with the eye of a camera.
Sometimes you have to turn it off. Sit in silence or talk to someone who you have never actually spoken to before. Learn something deep or meaningful—add purpose to your life and be willing to enjoy the awkward pauses, tender thoughts, and peaceful atmosphere that can all be brought upon by a simply switch to the off position of the television.
I don’t even know why, but I found myself sitting in front of the television with Mark. His eyes were locked on the glow of the set and I seemed to not even be an afterthought. I reminded myself that the only person at fault in this situation was me as I knew that I would be disappointed. I should have ignored his texts, I should have fought against my stupidity.
The TV blared as she tried to focus on the words she needed to write, the ones that her friend needed written most. It was supposed to be a Eulogy but all she seemed to be able to do was stare at a blank page and watch the world go by.
Yawning, I tried to block Joey from my mind. Once again, he had broken up with me. My only comfort was found in two single things: rocky-road ice cream and T.V. Oh, wait! Joey was texting me, apologizing! This one sounded sincere, so it’d probably last until next week; the longest we’d have ever been together.
The television flickered its blue light across the girl’s face as she watched it, pretending to be enraptured. Her mother was in the room next door, yelling at her father. She winced when she heard glass shatter. Who had thrown it? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
He’s sitting on the mold green sofa, half-sunk in its full-balled surface. The remote in his hand is light and plastic. The blanket wrapped around him is the warmest thing he’s ever felt.
They came from inside the television. Hundreds and hundreds of spiders of all species and sizes. It made one wonder what other sinister things there were in the factory.
And that’s when I knew that I was brain dead. I could feel, look, and touch everything. I could move, but I could not think. I could look, but I could not see. And I knew that the second I looked at the television and saw the static screen.
What did we do in the early days of television? When there were only a few channels and television went off the air at midnight? We played outside in the street with the other neighbor kids or played board games and cards. We listened to our transister radios and sang along with our favorite singer or group. We watched bowling on a Sunday morning because that was the best thing on at that time. Or better yet, I watched roller derby with Dick Lane announcing. Whoa Nelly !!!
She smiled, blithe and crooked, washed in the blue, fizzy glow of the television.
“Who were you expecting?” Everything was the same, from the flip at the end of her hair to the hate flickering in her eyes like changing channels.
“Not you, Katja.”
“You never were.”
The television flickered eerily in the background, sending flashes of blue and white and every other color across the room. Still, at least it kept me from having to search the inky darkness that pervaded the rest of the room in order to find her.
“Tala?” I called softly as I moved across the floor slowly, carefully avoiding the half-empty takeout containers and empty bottles.
“Go away,”
We are all televisions now; it just seemed the obvious step forward. Televisions don’t age – you can just replace your set with the latest model when it comes out. When you heat up too much, they just unplug you for a bit, and a couple of hours later, hey presto! There you are, projecting whoever or whatever you want to be.
once upon a time i was watching the television and all of a sudden i got onto an adult channel and tons of gay porn came up and i sat there, in aw watching. i got a boner and starting masturbating furiously, but im not gay so i dont understand why i finally had finished and thought that was very gay of myself
TV
Watch
News
Laugh
Cry
Cube shaped
It didn’t surprise anyone when the news came on television. Everyone in the room already knew about it. The announcer’s voice trembling with excitement said the magic words. Two worlds one word peace earth beings!
the one eyed devil. this is the box that we all have in our homes that compels us to sit and stare at it’s wares all day and night. we are all slaves to this as our information source. we assume that every home has it. it has become standard. trash. filth.
Entertaining angels
and often demons.
Both wait to strike
different arteries
of the heart.
How will you defend
your spirit?
Are you training? Are you strong?
Are you waiting for someone to come along
to save you?
No one will arrive
unless you open the door.
He’s knocking.
What do you have to lose?
Just your life.
There once was a tv called bob. He had two legs and hands like the muffin man. He always knew that he was different, but one day he felt the full impact of this difference. His family threw him into the endless expanse of the Grand Canyon.
i just stared; what else was i meant to do? the noises drifted in from next door, things that no-one in their life should ever hear. with every minute their voices got angrier and more bitter. Escape was the best thing. I turned up the volume and let the story take me to a new world.
Turn the television off. Explore the realities surrounding you. There is more to life than television. Face each other and make your next move. What’s it gonna be boy? Yes or No…
Oh and the dribble and drawble reaches from the screen and bleeds into nonplussed eyes that gaze without a soul. What is left in this world, while madmen scream for freedom we sit and stare. We sit and stare. Who’s mad now?
She turned on the television only to find her self sad. The news had nothing happy to share. She was already feeling blue from not getting time off for the holidays. Now all this reporting on what is not right in the world. She knew she should reach out and turn it off yet she was drawn to allow the deep dark stories to catch her attention. She wanted to look away and look at both.
I was sitting on the couch, watching the television screen. Not really aware of what was on it. Just thinking. When had everything gone so wrong? How could everything have come to such a terrible climax? I knew then I wouldn’t be satisfied until I confronted her.