It’s not the same, we could pretend all night, playing charades of being lovers in the moment. Sometimes intoxicated and sometimes, regrettably not. But I’ll never make you feel the way she can, she who can kiss away the frowns on your forehead and unclench your stubborn fingers. She who can melt into you like wax in flame and ice in rum, who can leave without leaving a trace and still leave your soul as hollow as a pitted walnut shell.
And nor are you he. He who can walk into a room and change the very air it contains. Who can make my guts clench into a tight pleasant knot with nothing more than a half hug, he who makes me want to crumble into a heap of peanut brittle in warm chocolate, whose hands on a discarded earring feel like a warm patient caress down my bare back. He who has become my temptation, it’s like I’ve been living in a dark Iceland with a fortified igloo around me and suddenly he decided to become the sun and come visiting. It’s like I’ve been welding an intricate cage around me for ages and ages past and in one snap of his fingers, the locks are undone, and the walls are none.
Dear convenient arrangement, my mechanical fingers make you live your fantasies; your experienced hands make me live mine while we accidentally moan a name that does not belong to anyone in the room. And later, we smoke in silence on either corner of the bed, half dressed and fully veiled. “You should come over for dinner sometime…soon…ish.”
I mumble something about a 9.30 meeting and begin to leave, physically.
And until next time we will continue, with our insulated emotions lodged deep into the no escape room of our corroding mind palace. And when the walls are threatening to give away, when the roof is about to collapse, one of us will message the other to get the cello tape and come and the other will promptly oblige.
And another night of temporary repairs will commence.
“Can I bum a smoke? … Thanks”
Product: Life Alert
Being an aspiring copywriter my daily dose of media includes scouting the internet for advertisements both new and old, good and bad. Today I came across a recent T.V. commercial by Life Alert which, to be quite honest was far from being ‘Spot on’.
The commercial in short shows how an old woman who is alone at home falls from the stairs and can’t get up, her cries for help fill the air as life goes on normally for people outside unaware of her situation.
In my opinion what went wrong with this ad was simply the fact that the sensitivity of sentiment associated with human life which often is crucial while handling products like Life Insurance, Safety devices, Pepper sprays etc. The only thing wrong with the ad is the treatment of a core insight.
Presenting people with an old helpless woman, hoping they will see their grandmothers in her is not they way to encourage them to buy your safety device, not every one will take it in the vein it is presented.
In short, if your advertisement scares a person to the bones the chances of him being enthused to buy your product are very bleak.
In my opinion, it could have simply been the woman recalling how she fell down the stairs the other day and was saved thanks to Life Alert and how she cannot imagine what would have happened if she didn’t have it on her. I know its cliché, but considering the nature of the product and the sensitivity associated with it, it’s best to stick to clichés sometimes, after all, they’ve been around for a reason haven’t they?
Goodbye dear sorrow
I have fond memories of you
I have to go
To find you anew
In unknown lands
And stormy sands
I wither in the search
Of what gave you your due
Goodbye dear sorrow
You’ve lived here enough
Your rent is over due
And you’ve got a cough
You dance damn fine
In tobacco and green
I’m off to a loveless land unseen
Goodbye dear sorrow
You’ve bound me enough
I wish we could be friends
But I’m too frail for you
A gypsy once told me
I will make a world of my own
I’m off to a loveless land unknown
Goodbye dear sorrow, Goodbye