Restriction: How tall can you make something stand on its own?
This Braco in America youtubes provided… uhh… inspiration today. It may be somewhat difficult to get at what this has to do with the day’s restriction. Just roll with it.
Yeah, you heard what I said – I’m going to stare at you until your sadness melts.
You will see the whites of my eyes reflecting you back, and your brain will switch into an unfamiliar mode. Your teeth will ache, jangling in your jaw, and you will be unable to look away. The ecstatic truth will seep into your mind, and you will know that your life up until this point has been a lie.
I won’t open my mouth to say anything, but you won’t even be able to notice me blink in the thrall of my grace. This locking of eyes will fill your body with energy, and edit your unpleasant habits from your head, like wiping a cloth over spilled milk. You will be in awe of my sheer personality. Although I do not want you to dedicate your life to following me and praising my talents to those who will listen, you will have no choice but to leave your family and your job and follow my healing gaze where you can.
I’ll stare at a whole crowd next. They will all be cured of their cancers and obsessions and they will walk away dazed, starting a new and better life right then and there. Some of them will follow me, although I tell the assembled people that it is my wish that they spread the good news elsewhere. They should tell their friends. I’m doing this again tomorrow. Tickets are only $30.
We will go to a cemetary. With a simple glance at the gravestones, angelic forms of glowing energy will burst from the sky to the ground, and these impossibly beautiful columns will whisper ultimate truths into the mind of everyone who sees the awesome display. There will be soothing sounds, and it will be like washing yourself in a waterfall made from singing rainbows. Even your clothes will be cleaner when I’m done.
My followers will hire me a helicopter, to fly over urban centers. Just the touch of my eyes from afar will stall people in their tracks in the streets, they will look up with a glazed joy and wave at the flashing blades, without truly knowing why. They will all be better people now. Most of the problems of society can be solved in this way: just buy me a helicopter. I have to remember not to stare at the pilot too much, or they will become charged with my pure joy and the excitement may make them try to fly me to the moon. That would not be good. There aren’t people to appreciate my amazing talent on the moon. Plus I can’t help anyone there, I’m pretty sure my stare only works in visual distance or else most of the world’s major issues would already be solved.
Next, with all my notoriety and adoring fans, I will be given a prime-time television show. It won’t be a reality show, really, by modern standards. I will just stare into the camera lens while soft music plays. There won’t be an address, or any information on the screen, but people will still send me huge donations they can’t really afford. They’ll feel better about themselves. Sometimes it’s even said that limbs have come back and folks have risen from long comas because of my gaze from their hospital teevee screen. I send the donations back anyway, because I’m already rich enough with the blessing the universe has given me. Also, to be honest, I’m kind of sick of sports cars and expensive clothing.
One day, you will want my gaze upon you, to feel the gentle tug of warm cotton candy soup on your brainpan, and I won’t be there. They’ll play a rerun of that horrible daytime talk show hosted by that washed-up comedian instead, because I will be stuck in my dressing room, in front of the mirror. I’m making myself a better person. I’m healing myself. I’m going to be perfect.