I don't see the point in posting on the blog anymore. So I will stop until I have a point to post on here. People don't read it an don't comment and I sure as fuck don't need to read my own thoughts over and over again.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Have you ever done something which seemed like the worst thing in the world to you yet to others it seemed like nothing?
It reminds me somewhat of the butterfly.
In case you don't know the story behind the butterfly here it is, typed out from Violent J's book..
"and we were chasing one of those colorful, humongous-ass butterflies. Suddenly, my brother started screaming.
"Joe, Joe, I got it!"
Rob had actually caught the Butterfly. I was pretty shocked. So was he. So was the Butterfly, I'll bet. I don't really know how it happened, but I guess he jumped off the porch, and actually cupped it in his hands, midair.
We had a jar with holes poked in the top, which we always kept on our porch, because we'd always catch shit like grasshoppers or praying mantises. Anything fresh.
We put this giant Butterfly in the jar, and we sat there staring at it. Wow. It was mad powerful-looking. We noticed it had fur on its wings and all kinds of colors. It didn't even seem like an insect, it seemed more like a bird. We felt really guilty about having it in our jar, like we caught somebody's dog.
We said to each oter, "Look man, we're just gonna have this Butterfly spend one night at our house, and we'll let it go in the morning, because this is way too big and beautiful to keep. Besides, we don't now what it eats, or anything. We have to let it go."
We agreed. Just as soon as we got up the next morning, we'd let it go. That night, it would be our guest. We just wanted to hang out with it for a night.
We poked extra holes in the jar lid and put a screen over it to hook it up more. We had a fan in our bedroom 'cause it was mad hot, and we put the jar right in front of the fan. The Butterfly was our guest, and we wanted it to be extra comfortable.
We tried to sleep, but we kept hearing the Butterfly's wings hitting the glass of the jar, like it was talking to us. It was the shit. We were mad excited...
Next morning, all we could hear was the fan. My brother and I looked at each other in horror, then looked back at the jar. The Butterfly was dead.
We were straight-up crushed. Right there, brother, we started fuckin' bawling our eyes out. We felt like we just murdered somebody. Actually, I guess we did. That sucked bad.
So here's what we did: we dug a grave in the space between our house and the one next door. It was already a cemetary of sorts, because this cat across the street was always killing birds and mice and shit. We would find the bodies of these animals, and bury them in that area.
There was this place across the street that sold potato chips in a big metal can, so we got an empty one and made it into the Butterfly's final resting place. We put a little couch in there made out of napkins and Popsicle sticks, and all kinds of other cool shit.
With tears in our eyes, we placed the can in the grave, and filled in the dirt on top of it. We felt so bad, we made a vow right then and there. A vow we continue to live by today:
'One day, we will make it to heaven, so that we can make sure the Butterfly made it, and so that we can apologize to that Butterfly face-to-face.' (If insects are not allowed in heaven, then we would ask to change that policy on the Butterfly's behalf.)
I have done that to only too many insects as a pet... it makes me sad.
I made a friend once... it was a snail. Where I use to live in California there were a lot of snails. I would always ride my bike up and see them and one day I remember I was walking and I stepped on one. I felt its shell crack under my foot and she slippery gewy gunk from the snail stuck to my shoe... It make me feel bad :(
I wish I had never hurt that snail...