The Carpet, It Burns You!!!

All my life, all I've known is burnt carpet. Ouch.

Imagine you're 5, just a kid. When you're 5, the world seems five times as large. Mainly because you are five times smaller than adults. You're full of starshine wonder. Toilet bowls amuse you. Dogshit entertains you. Booger tastes good to you.

You're 5 years old. You have no concept of love, respect, don't care for money, no clue that life is actually just one big humungous dildo waiting to rape that metaphorical butthole that is your soul. You're mom feeds you, and you're happy. Happiness is a warm plate, not a smoking gun. See what 20 extra years on earth can make you feel like.

But you're 5 years old. Now imagine you're in a big room. Talking like blue ocean big. You're 5, remember? Rooms like that are easy to find, aplenty. You're small!! A little tyke! And to keep up with the theme, its fully-carpeted. Sheepy fleece white, just to whet your hungry imagination.

And so you're standing there, minding your own business, in your own happy little 5 year old existence. Now say you have a friend there. She's 5 too! But you don't dig her, naw. Girls are yecky at that age. It's ironic; you want to do everything when you're 5, except the opposite sex. When you're an adult, you don't want to do anything BUT the opposite sex.

But lets not burst the fragile bubble that is this 260 week paradise of lost innocence. Now imagine the girl (lets say she's a skinny little pig-tailed girl with big wide eyes, a full stop for a nose and no front teeth), invites you to race you to the end of the room. And what's worse, the bitch has ran off first! You're doomed to a bad start before you've even taken the first breath, let alone your first step.

But that competitive 5 year old streak of yours won't let go. You can't win; the odds are all stacked against you; you're screwed. But you're 5; what the feckin' hell do you know about winning or losing? Everything's fun... so you chase after her, running the length of the continent of a room.

And while you're running, and as she turns back just so she can flash her lecherous face at you, to rub it in that she's winning (nevermind that she had a 5 second headstart), you pick up the pace, accelerating towards the end of the room, determined to do your damnest to either win or condemn yourself to an eternity in Hell (although what a 5 year old believes hell to be is also anyone's guess, quite possibly a world full of bittergout and broccolli... )

And that's when you slip, and you're running so fast, you don't realise how much momentum you've built, and your little feet give way to the fast approaching carpet, and that's when it happens.

The carpet, it burns you. You've skinned your knees.

And your little 5 year old physique shoots with this searing pain, which of course will pass in due time, but the abrasions are there to remind you of your folly, and should serve you well as a chilling reminder of your life:

While chasing after someone, you had fallen hard for that person, but all you got for falling for them was burnt.

This is the concept of carpet burn. All my life, all I've known is burnt carpet. Ouch.