Soggy Banana It’s not often in the street. It’s not average to find soggy bananas, even after you read this. So, don’t trust your local antennas. Be international and open your bounds. Celibate intentions to explore, invites pervasive nature to come in and provide experience, sometimes regrettably- traumatic. Parental disclosure is due to collapse and infiltration takes over vulnerable pysche. I had to stop and acknowledge this soggy banana as more than an object. Majority of passerbys do just that: 'pass on by.' Maybe some of us need to take a second look at what’s around. Chances are, the banana lying in the street takes nothing personal. Knows nothing about family, censorship, dreams, pain, or making everday choices life prepares for us. Its participation in being food or exchange material is unobliged. Besides consumption, humans and modern art utilizes fruit from an aesthetic distance. Neither are involved in each other’s experience. Some soggy bananas are sweet and nutritional without even trying. For others, heavy troden shoes and gritty rubber tires on asphalt erode the perishable in different grades. Some may go in natural habitats, way before entering the city shops. This one lies here fresh and saturated, stuck in a lively daze . An image that might feel wasted here, like inadvertently dropping opulent merchandise. Whether it’s digested or decomposes, withering away is in the future. This can be the equivalent of being killed or dying of old age in humans. Either way the love is always present while we succomb to our fatilities. Most notably in funeral processions. In fact, can we do more than be entertained? Should we also love death? It’s pretty obvious we already feel stimulation in a world of dissipation. A banana dripping off into the sidewalk cracks seems unnatural, but could demand a congratulations. First sign of life aging in a banana is sogginess then discoloration. Once they began, we show respect for what’s destined to them. We do this by avoiding consumption and avoiding contact at all costs. Yes, the banana peel is very famous in clumsy cartoon land. Unfortunately, the case of Darlene Berlow was a story told in real life. Unmasking the horrors of devastating events that comes face to face with life changing consequences; all stemming from the classic banana peel. What can be more unfortunate than a soggy banana marring a woman’s womb, leaving it widely exposed, after losing her footing and went tumbling into a front roll? Rumors say she spent her case money to fund an undertaking of using fertilized eggs to replace her ineffective ones. She was diagnosed sterile at 26 with no hope in sight by a team of experienced physicians, twenty-four hours after the slip. She financed so many unsuccessful surgeries to her body, that some identify her as 'pink salmon.' This is due to the level of damage so excessive, the stink of morbid river eggs spawning then dying upstream stays with her. This special story originated, quite some many years ago, in Idaho. It started from the very moment she came upon a soggy banana on the sidewalk.The banana lost pieces of itself, too, that day. Although, it gained a more reputable place in society all over, versus produce we point to and laugh. At this time, the banana’s peels were still attached and lying on the streets resembling the act of reaching out to something in the distance. It was believed to have been tossed away unwanted and landed in such a position. Not as tragic as dope needles spotting on the pavement. Still, sloppy behavior. Soggy thing it was too, even fleshy. To the point of portraying a sweaty lazy fellow stuck in an unharmful gesture. Its skin glistened moist, loathed by an onlooker. Attracting her to it. She knew this was not the kind of trashy litter that makes you look the other way. Darlene came close into a crouch and settled for a pose holding out her camera. She was close enough to feel its photosynthetic smile, but not fitting the both of them inside the camera. She began to embody its personal space, more nearer now, sandals making squishy contact onto the golden arm. Suddenly, barely audible, words eeked out from thin air. Two distinct words: "don’t," followed by, "do." But as she canvased the area, no one else was seen. Notice of what just occurred came and rational denial quickly kicked it away from her thoughts. A redistribution of her weight from over her exposed toes caused protest from her entire thigh. Normally, she would comply and allow the blood flow to normalize. Instead, a few more intruding seconds of the banana’s space, was how she returned her concern to the pleading leg. Switch to a wider scope, capture the scene, and then she’ll depart on her own way. No big deal. Her big toe slowly slid away taking a peel along with it. Mush from the banana insides began chalking across the ground. Her sandal’s weak adhesion to the ground caused more instability, still she stayed, placing all her weight on one leg. In one swift second, that leg finally relinquished every single pound at omce. The mechanism humans rely on for recovering from a slip, did not activate instinctively causing her to collapse hard. After she went down, consciousness escaped her in that moment. A handful of minutes ticked by and images of asphalt slowly came back to her in fragments. Then she heard a voice that brought her present all at once. "No one is exempt from being faced down on the ground, not even an imbalanced defiant human." Darlene came to awareness of excruciating pain. She felt helpless, but not alone. An unknown stranger ridiculing her limitations was also stealing her hope of being rescued. "Turn around." The voice ordered. With not much more to lose, and apparently even less to gain, she obeyed and tried to turned her head. Nope, pain shot through her entire midsection, she needed her entire body to turn as well. Then she saw it, more in depth than she noticed before. It was slightly 'unappealing.' She was also mindful of how vulnerable her state of mind was from a hit that hard, but Darlene was eye to eye with a talking banana standing erect. Dark blotches and bronze patterns looked fleshy to the touch. All three sides of it, was halfway peeling off. It fashioned its outer skin like a draped toga. She could not stop stewing in the mind, jerking her head in every direction. She knew if she was asleep this would snap her up out of it. She repeated it over and over until her reality concluded that some screws were loosened and fell off during her debuncle. Now the banana was hopping towards her with concern across his darkened tipped face. "You ok ma’am?" He asked, approaching slowly, "I don’t want you to yank your neck into a disastrous situation. Don’t panic. I’m only here to help." Her fears derailed and emotions was popping off track as well. 'Could I be half paralyzed?' 'Is talking fruit my permanent state of mind?' So many questions, but something even heavier seemed to loom. "I don’t know what to say." She finally spoke, in a suggestive tone. They were speaking unanimously, over talking each other’s words. He apologized first and prompted her to speak. "Are you real?" "Yes." The banana answered, "I’m as here, as you are alive right now. My name is Banana, Soggy Banana. I’m a character created by your mind, and made out of what’s real to you. She went to feel his skin and quickly recoiled her hand to stop the agony of her injuries. "Yes, once again. I am here. Touching is unnecessary. Quite frankly, touching was unnecessary from the beginning. Inside of your mind, I informed you not to do it. "That was you?" His answers surpassed her rational thresholds, she was barely holding on. "I knew I heard something." "And you chose to be defiant, but this is no punishment. More of a...lesson to be learned. Let’s skip the 'ew' and 'ahh' preliminaries and tell me why I’m here." He scanned himself tentatively and did a quick sweep over the city streets. He continued, "Also, why have I come to you as a banana?" "I’m sorry. I don’t know anything. Why you’re, uh, fruit. Or why this moment exists. Look at what you’ve done to me?! And you expect me to answer to YOU! I’m seriously incapable of comprehending and moving right now." She dropped her head in disgust. "Don’t apologize to me...yourself," he added as comic relief to relax her anger. "And being brutally honest, don’t play 'victim' in a crisis. That is more dangerous then running with scissors." "Can anyone else see you?" She asked unamused. Her words were in a hushed tone bouncing her eyes from Banana to the vicinity. Realizing, in that moment, witnesses may be watching from somewhere. "Nah. Everyone has their separate consciousness' in separate worlds. Darlene, you have always longed for a life parallel to what the world exposed to you as normal. Do you know the reason why you were seeking a selfie so bad, you were willing to push your body to its limits?" There was a pause for a handful of seconds. Seeing the resistance inside her mind play out on her flushed face was obvious. Her forehead was folding skin in columns. "This is ridiculous. I’m having a conversation with a banana. I need an actual person to help me." She made another attempt at getting to her feet and felt no cooperation from her body. He watched helplessly as her mind made distance from the pain. "Inside, you were crying for help well before running into me." He could tell, he was losing her. It felt like he was failing her. He felt compelled to offer more and said, "Here we are, together deteriorating. Look, even you’re peeling." He pointed to her blood stained shirt, "No pressure, but we’re running out of life." Her anxiety was intense, too much activity running wild inside her. She was steady feeling for a lifeguard’s hand to hold, not knowing she was made to swim. She fumbled through her pockets for her phone, "I got, gotta call the paramedics." Her nerves were so unsteady she could not get a grip. Just then, she felt his semiliquid banana peel land on top of her shaky hand. "Just breathe. There’s nothing but love in the air. One thing bananas and your conscious have in common, is they work blindly together. You can save yourself, without anyone having to show you." "Wow, your persistent my little friend." She pursed her lips and hung her head sideways to mimimick an affection for something cute. "How do I go about that?" A grin made its way across his soggy freckles. He thought she was building a sense of understanding in what he was trying to get her to adhere to: Convince her she is full of life, even when she is peeled halfway just like him. Pleased with his progress, he moved in towards her naval and wrapped her wound then tightened it. He continued, "There, that will take care of the leak. In all the painic, you forgot that I am you. You were the one that stopped the bleeding. No one can live your life like you can. You and your body are one. Understand its language. Don’t lose faith in yourself. It would be like tossing an edible and delicious banana for someone else to come by and pick up." As he backs away, she notices that one of his peels is not there. She looks down below her kness and sees it smeared underneath her sandal. In that moment, she remembered the roll she took. The blackout after the fall assured her that a head injury could explain a banana maintaining such dialogue. She became afraid of her mental capabilities and what she did next was her way of escaping. She bellied out in hysterical laughter. Jane looked at the banana with her index finger trained on his every movement. She exploded into more laughter in hopes of shooting him away for good. But before she could shoot her last round at her animated hallucinations, he waved a soggy peel in the air as a silencing command. She slowed down and chuckled to a grin. Backing away he told her, "Love will exist all around you, but you will search the mountains and back to find it. Today, you saved yourself. Then gave all the credit to the act of science. You will understand how limited other people truly are, when it comes to fixing problems outside their own world." He says as he resumes to his position on the pavement. "Wait, what does that mean?" He paused one last time and turned towards her. "Your future endeavors will seem to be as cruel as the state you found me in. You’ll feel infinite ridicule while walking a finite path. The banana peel is faultless, but will take blame for a tragedy. Remember, there is no one present, but the one who claimed victim." And with that her loving essence was returned to her and the banana flopped lifelessly. The sounds of ambulance sirens was closing the distance. That’s how the story unfolded. Plainly said: what happened to Darlene Berlow was the product of her own catastrophe. I will never forget the message she left me. Even more than the message, I will never forget Darlene Merlow, my wife. My name is Steve Berlow. I married her after an entire childhood next door to her. She has always been raised to be hyper sensitive about her status in the world. Her parents were politians, influencing her every move. Criticized ever time she invited the 'real Darlene' into the public eye. Her reality was a life that shape shifted to avoid denial. Until that day, she has never thought her true self survived. Ever since Soggy Banana, her internal voice has been much clearer. She told me that it pleaded against all the choices she made in her life. I’ve always been supportive of her, but she never could be. I, too, wanted to have a family. But I was not going to deny my wife because of her condition. Many people talked down about her and many others just would pass judgement as cruel as deadly bullets.  She was opulent merchandise to her world, but not all stories have happy endings. I do believe a good story should encourage a deep look inwards for solving anything too large for your world to handle. She divorced me and demanded I have my own family. Today, I stand face to face with a soggy banana. What will happen when you reach yours? Will you be the hero of your story, wearing love as the cape? Or will it be too much and force you to conform?What about your secret identity?  That day, my wife chose to protect a belief she created since birth. Never able to accept her true self. To some, it could seem as if she 'went bananas.' Very much the opposite I assure you. In fact I’m sure she’s somewhere rationally continuing her personal life, like day to day operations required for a corporation. I wish she chose to save herself that day. I really wish she had 'went bananas.'

Soggy Banana
Soggy Banana

Feel Admired There’s these pair of new sneakers that have just arrived in stores. The kind of footwear that gets heavy propaganda before its debut. The street name is heat wave, but the color we have just picked out today in our corner mall is ocean blue.  “Here, try them on.” Today we were fortunate enough to be helped by the supervisor. My wife quickly stood her ground against the younger blonde placing her polished nails against my shoulders. “No thanks, we’ll keep looking.” “Don’t miss out on this wonderful opportunity, sir.” I was getting the gloss of a bright sky fluttering in each eye as young as the day. Her eyes were even deeper set from an angle as she turned to find my size in the back of the store. In a heavy pace, but very mature. Once, my wife and I had visited this same store for the baby shower of her sister’s third child. Maybe it’s because our attention had been entangled in the baby department, that we haven’t noticed an associate like this before. In the small time that we managed to fuss about the low inventory and what exactly we were going to spend the money on, our late arrival to the shower had seemed to create more friction within our own family that night. So I’ve decided today with no shower or rush in time, I’ll choose leisurely and browse as I see fit. “When she comes back, I’ll walk a few steps in the blues.” “They’re not that great.” My wife’s arms began to fold tightly across her loose sweater. She took a couple steps to me and started to lick the inside of her mouth. A huge oblong shaped poked out her face as the Supervisor returned stepping between us. “You’ll love them. Here.” In an instant the top of her head was at my waist side. I’m not sure how many loops she made with the laces, but the comfort sent a slow rise of heat all the way into my cheeks. She gestured for me to walk and I felt like trotting. But I came to a stop at the nearest mirror and gazed at what could be. I turned and looked back at her in time to catch her bare chest hovering towards me. She stopped and asked me inquisitively, “Would you let me see without your socks on?” She waved me even closer. The heat that was caught beneath my cheeks is now traveling again. I hesitated a bit and she caught my trip. I was leaning against her beachy perfume. As I took to my feet again, I asked: “Can I buy?” “You bet,” she answered rapidly, “I knew you’d wanna feel admired.”

Feel Admired
Feel Admired
Robert Gibson

Robert Gibson

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I am pretty tall and ok looking. I do not act like your normal blogger. I am ready 4 characterization and the ability for me to play a role in life.