[ theatrical_muse] #169 - Fragile
I could go into the fragility of human life, or sanity, or love, or any of that crap, but how boring would that be. Besides, haven’t you read enough of that yet? I’m sure there’s hundreds of responses around here from deep, sensitive writers who pour their entire essence into capturing the pain of fragility in nauseating clarity.
Personally, I’d like to know why everything is so poorly made these days. It used to be I could throw a chair in a fit of anger and it’d bounce off the fucking wall like it enjoyed the experience. Incidentally, the same applies to men, but I said I wasn’t talking about the fragility of life. Try that now with an armchair and your hired help will be cleaning up the splinters of wood for weeks to come. And it’s not like we buy cheap Ikea shit around here, either. This is supposedly high-quality home décor. There should be some kind of manufacturer test where five guys (it’d take that many, but again, not talking about human fragility) lift an oak table and throw it at a wall to see if it can stand the beating. Only then would an assurance of quality mean anything to me. I’m tired of having to redecorate every time I need to vent.
Personally, I’d like to know why everything is so poorly made these days. It used to be I could throw a chair in a fit of anger and it’d bounce off the fucking wall like it enjoyed the experience. Incidentally, the same applies to men, but I said I wasn’t talking about the fragility of life. Try that now with an armchair and your hired help will be cleaning up the splinters of wood for weeks to come. And it’s not like we buy cheap Ikea shit around here, either. This is supposedly high-quality home décor. There should be some kind of manufacturer test where five guys (it’d take that many, but again, not talking about human fragility) lift an oak table and throw it at a wall to see if it can stand the beating. Only then would an assurance of quality mean anything to me. I’m tired of having to redecorate every time I need to vent.