I am a SOCIAL BUTTERFLY!
I am, you know ;-). Jorel, if you’re out there and reading this, I know that you know that I am. Hehe.
Honestly though, this weekend was a whirlwind of seeing old friends and new friends and it’s been fun and weird and sad and happy all at the same time. It’s like popping a spoon into a bucket of mystery flavored ice cream (although studies have shown that the mystery flavor is almost always just plain sugar and it’s the mind playing tricks on the fools that actually believe that such a flavor exists and(!) that the ability to name it is just within their grasp…evil, opportunistic, manipulative capitalists…I bow down to you) and I say that only in an effort to not use the often-quoted Forrest Gump-ism on the mysteries of chocolate picking (although I just did, now didn’t I? Dang’it…)
I go into this ridiculously long, run-on complex sentence to prove a point. Much like the social butterfly that flits and flies and flutters from flower to flower (oh, shut up, your Sex Ed teachers really ought to find new metaphors for such things…) I would very much like to go back to my caterpillar-ish roots and just settle on a leaf for a bit.
Except now I’m not really sure where my leaf is. And can butterflies still go back to being caterpillars? Why this misconception that the butterflies are the beautiful counterpart and thus the end product? Caterpillars are beautiful in their potentiality. With caterpillars, you can imagine what colors they’ll be. Butterflies have a horrible tendency to just become brown and yellow and depressing. I mean, when was the last time you saw a purple, maroon, and perriwinkle butterfly? Because those were the kinds of butterflies I use to (and still) draw.
So give me caterpillars anytime.
And so where did my point go?
