Injuries

Everyday the news reports come through with announcements of vile acts of destruction and mayhem followed by the number of injuries and fatalities. Film at eleven.

Check out YouTube for the latest school rumble or highway disaster to check out the losers and winners. If the reports came across the wires that some major catastrophe happened and no one was injured, you wouldn’t find a crumb on the Internet unless it was a comment from your grandmother.

 If the traffic slows down and you pass a wreck and everyone is standing around looking at their crumpled autos you just drive pass and think how bad those shmucks have it, but if there are bodies on the ground and EMTs rubbernecking begins to view the carnage. What is our fascination on seeing the blood? Does this go back to the gladiators?

The body count continues to grow but it never satisfies our lust. Break your arm, get everyone to sign the cast and tell the story of the struggle with a bear or a fall from a mountain. Black eye is hard to hide so just tell everyone “You should have seen the other guy.”

Bruises or bleeding may not be outwardly seen. There are many types of injuries.

“My name is Luka
I live on the second floor
I live upstairs from you
Yes I think you've seen me before

If you hear something late at night
Some kind of trouble, some kind of fight
Just don’t ask me what it was
Just don’t ask me what it was
Just don’t ask me what it was

I think it's because I’m clumsy
I try not to talk too loud
Maybe it’s because I’m crazy
I try not to act too proud

They only hit until you cry
After that you don’t ask why
You just don’t argue anymore
You just don’t argue anymore
You just don’t argue anymore

Yes, I think I’m okay
I walked into the door again
If you ask that’s what I'll say
And it’s not your business anyway
I guess I’d like to be alone
With nothing broken, nothing thrown

Just don’t ask me how I am
Just don’t ask me how I am
Just don’t ask me how I am

My name is Luka
I live on the second floor
I live upstairs from you
Yes I think you've seen me before

If you hear something late at night
Some kind of trouble, some kind of fight
Just don’t ask me what it was
Just don’t ask me what it was
Just don’t ask me what it was

And they only hit until you cry
After that, you don’t ask why
You just don’t argue anymore
You just don’t argue anymore
You just don’t argue anymore”

…Suzanne Vega