This motley life of Gerald Greantea

Chapter 5: Pain or Pleasure?

It had been a while since I found something interesting in my life.

Recently, I got these beautiful feet: soft, pale and small as ever. They were probably mini humans, but not quite a baby, hmm, I wonder what the humans called them. I was sure I knew the name..I may have just slipped.

Nothing had been interesting in my life lately, I wondered how I'd die, will I be able to feel the pain or was it my boredom that was leading me into a severe depression of derailing thoughts.

Perhaps, the latter.

The human who slept in the room walked in, with a mug in her hand. I couldn't take a perfect look at the mug, I mean, I liked checking out The Elite Matter.

We plastics, were probably the working class. Not quite as vulnerable as glass or hard as wood, we were probably rubbery, but somewhere in the middle, most of us were lost. Lost in how we were made. We didn't ponder over who or how we were created.

It was too science-y. And overall, did it matter? Someone made us. To do something with our lives. And here we were.

Somehow.

The mug patterns looked faded, probably an oldie, or probably never used. Virgin much. These ceramic dudes were lucky, all they had to do was show off. Humans would put them in a transparent cabinet, place them beautifully, as if they're on show. All they had to do was sit still.

Other humans admired them, talked about them and even tried to find their origins to get their own. I'm not going to lie, I was jealous, tremendously.

But then again, they were Elite Matter, plastics like us weren't valued like them. I did want to ponder about why we were all valued differently in this world, who priced us, what made us so different, or if I dare say, lowly than the rest.

But that was for another time.

I caught something on the mug, before the Human placed it beside her bed to search through some scholarly books.

Something like a tag and string was popping out of the mug. That was new.

Mugs didn't need a tag, or a string.

Unless..something else did.

The human sat on her bed, took the mug into her hand, whilst holding the mug, she happened to get the thread or string to circulate its movements around the mug, like she was making something.

Confused as I was, I was intrigued, what was happening on the inside? The mug seemed undisputed. I heard the Elite weren't able to feel pain, or anything of the sort. They were immune to feeling.

Was that a good thing or just another excuse for the elite?

I shrugged. Metaphorically.

What I experienced next was absolute shock, when I saw the human pulling out the entire string, there came above what I knew as a tea-bag.

They were apparently, substances that were enhanced in drinks for humans, originated from plants and trees.

Humans, they made use of everything in their own unique ways, it was genius yet scary.

There were small squeals coming out of the tea-bag, which the Human didn't seem to notice, I wonder why, but I believed Humans were placed on a different dimension than us, non living beings.

We had a powerful wall obstructing us. For Humans, we were nothing but something to use, they will treat us however, because for them, we had no feelings.

But we did. At least the screaming tea-bag said so.

"Oi! Hey you guys! Can you HEAR me? Look! Here! Here! Down. I am the carpet!" I screamed my lungs out, hoping they would notice.

"Help...us...." I heard the voices squeal in echo, they sounded young, like the babies of a mother, their voices were like...that chipmunk animal, their screams were jarring.

"How can I help you?! Please tell me!" I was panicking at this point. I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything, but I couldn't just watch either.

"No..you can't help us." The voices squealed again, not in despair but in giggles.

I had never been so confused in my life.

"You..you like it?" I was baffled, they were probably drowning in hot, boiling water and yet they seemed to be in two minds.

"I mean..at first we feel roasted. But then we end up liking it, then we emit these weird things into the water, we call it fart. Humans live on these things." The squealing voices now spoke more proudly, the human put them inside the mug again, into the water, they screamed like they were going in for a joyride.

I rolled my eyes, drama-tea bags.

The Human then took a sip, drank it through and made an ugly face, I bet the Fart doesn't really do them good.

But they still had it.

I didn't understand them both, the tea-bag and the human. If it doesn't feel good, why do you still go for it? If it feels painful, why do you feel pleasurable enough to go through with it?

A dilemma.

"Carpet, are you there?" The squealing voices were calling on me. They were out again, waiting to be thrown, I assumed.

"Yes. I don't understand your purpose. You get into the hot water, and say you like it. Why the risk?" I questioned.

"It wasn't a risk." They squealed again. That was getting annoying, soon.

"I mean..must be painful." I sympathized.

"Some pleasures in life, wouldn't be pleasures if it wasn't painful enough. To feel. To taste. To grow. You think my Fart tastes great? Yuck! They still have it anyway, you know why? Without pain, without me, they wouldn't be healthier, better, energetic." Tea-bag explained with a less squeaky voice.

"So, you and the human, go through all that just to become healthier? And what if you don't? Will life be shitty?" I questioned.

"If you don't experience it, doesn't mean it's shitty, it could just mean, you don't want it. Humans like taking care of themselves, that's how we served our purpose, painful as it maybe, still pleasurable to know we helped someone, after all." Tea-bag casually said before being thrown away.

They were immediately disposed but served a greater purpose.

I suddenly felt bitter as ever, how judgy have I been. How awful.

I sighed. Metaphorically.