There once was an unimaginably troubled, young girl. Her name was Satisfaction. This charismatic spirit loved to serve, beyond anything else. To make people happy was her end game and gave her more joy than any riches ever could. So, seeking to follow what felt good and right she found Everyone. Everyone was a discontent and indecisive fellow, but she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and befriend this handsome boy, doing everything in her power to give him what he so desired. He would call for kitchen assistance, so she cooked his meals. He yearned for a shoulder to cry on, so she comforted him as tenderly as she could. He asked for more effort, so she threw herself into whatever was called next. Everyone, being the bipolar menace that he was, grew weary of these luxuries and very quickly began to complain. He was outraged when he decided he no longer wanted the food she was preparing and pointed out the existing flaws around her. Ever comforted, he was displeased at how easily she was allowing him to spill his emotions, he was vexed at the idea Satisfaction was catering to his whims. Shortly after, he found fault in her enthusiasm to please and spoke constantly of her annoying pep. Although disheartened by listening to these critics, Satisfaction still loved Everyone dearly and decided to follow the instructions of Everyone and alter her approach to each and every one. This only seemed to make Everyone angrier, for, this time, he spoke of her insensitivity and lack of compassion. She adjusted her behavior once more. Alas she was only met with more malcontent. Everyone was steadily faithless and Satisfaction never seemed to be able to get the job done quite right.
Like a game of ping-pong, this battle between what Everyone wanted and did not want continued until, at last, one day Everyone’s old friend Nobody arrived. Nobody casually slumped around and seemed to simply just be without a care in the world. He occasionally gave Everyone a sideways smile or light chuckle, but, overall, sat rooted in his seat near the door. Eventually growing bored with the presence of Everyone and Satisfaction, Nobody said his goodbyes and walked out the door. Completely exasperated by the constant pushing and pulling of her everyday life, Satisfaction was envious of Nobody’s lack of care and enthusiasm for anything at all. She desired that ease that Nobody seemed to be promising. Jumping from her seat, Satisfaction ran out the front door, catching Nobody by surprise. Without hesitation, she pleaded with Nobody to allow her to join him, promising to be no burden at all. With a careless shrug Nobody turned on the ignition of his beaten Station Wagon and gestured for her to get in. Satisfaction immediately took a seat and the great pressures that responsibility graciously lies upon us was lifted from her shoulders. Nobody was not much of a conversationalist, so there, uncomfortably stationed on ripped leather and lumpy foam, Satisfaction quickly realized her mind would be filling in those empty spaces, just fine.
In the quiet darkness they sat, day and night, not waiting for anything in particular but just, simply, staying alive. More thoughts of envy, anger, and sadness festered wildly, like never before. Although free of any responsibility, Satisfaction was not free of herself and no matter how desperately she tried to escape, some things cannot be outrun. While emptiness and sorrow gnawed at Satisfaction’s heart, Nobody seemed perfectly comfortable in his same morose lifestyle. Carrying out his life in the same, agonizingly dull manner. Caught in a whirlpool desire, it was to Satisfaction’s surprise that the doorbell rung. With a hefty grumble Nobody stood up and walked into the other room, shutting the door behind him. It rang again. Satisfaction cautiously opened the door, taken aback by the sudden excitement. In walked a tall, beautiful woman. “Hello, I’m Self-Interest. I just moved in and haven’t gotten any of my stuff yet, do you happen to have a body mirror?”
“Uh..” Satisfaction stuttered out.
“Thanks a million, I owe you one.” She casually winked, wearing a devious grin, and waltzed back to the room in which Satisfaction had been staying in. Plopping her bag on the mattress, she pulled out her makeup, anti-aging creams and lotions, and varieties of jewelry. “I just couldn’t decide against one.” She held up each piece of bejeweled string to her neck, angling herself in different positions each time.
“Um-” Satisfaction began to ask her what exactly she was doing, but was instantaneously cut off.
“I know we just met and all, but I just have to get a few things off my chest.” Self-Interest started in on a long and drawn out spiel about how her life was so difficult, she was going to make it big, and just about every piece of information you could tell someone about yourself. She ended with, “It certainly isn’t perfect, but I really don’t care because everything I do makes me happy so.” She shrugged and finally finished what she was doing. “Gorgeous as always.” She blew a kiss at the mirror. “Well, I’m out of here. Thanks for the mirror.” She strutted towards the door, completely decked out in every accessory imaginable. As she opened the door, she paused long enough for Satisfaction to get a word in, as she adjusted her shoe.
“Take me with you.”
She turned around. “What’s in it for me?”
“Lifetime supply of foot rubs and compliments?”
Self-Interest sighed heavily and thought on this for a few moments. “Throw in free meals, too, and you got yourself a deal. Come, come.” She spun around and walked out the door. Satisfaction hurried along behind her.
The next few days were interesting, to say the least. As Satisfaction adjusted to becoming the center of attention from herself, many doors were opened to things she had never experienced before. Anything that produced the slightest joy within her, she pursued and for awhile this made Satisfaction more content then she had ever been before. The number of enjoyable distractions, subsided her desire for something more. After a short while, this, too, became dull and repetitive, just as Nobody’s house had become. Not only now was she discontent, but she also had to live with the results of her actions and criticisms of the people around her, she was now affecting. Completely numb to the world, she layed in her bed, decked out in jewels and fancy clothing, exhausted. “There has to be more than this.” she spoke so quietly, it could hardly even be considered a whisper.
“There is.” a soft but firm voice spoke, from under the wind.
Broken, hurt, and so, so weary, Satisfaction, though not sure of what, or rather whom, she was speaking to, croaked out with a shaky voice, something that would remain a part of her for the remainder of her life. “Take me, Father.”
How do you feel about this change in writing style? Is something I wrote above something you have experienced, at least in part, as well? What interpretation have you taken on this piece? I will be posting a continuation of this article, explaining what exactly it means to me, sometime relatively soon. I would love to hear your thoughts, below! See you, next time and massive apology for how long I waited to post this week!