10:30 p.m. - 2004-06-23
I'm sick of caring. Guess who this is about.
Dear butterfly,
You do as you are born to do. You fly and make all the other creatures of nature jealous of your beauty, but even you have a poisonous side. You flap a wing and disaster strikes. I guess I might be jealous, because I wish I had that kind of power, but I also feel bad for you, because I know that a lot of the time you hurt people that you don't mean to. Don't be sad, butterfly, you of all creatures should believe in something beautiful resulting from something not so beautiful. You were once a catterpillar, after all. I'm tired of chasing you butterfly, could you maybe not fly so high? I'd appreciate that. It really makes sense you know. I never knew that butterflies don't have ears, it makes sense. It really does. Why do butterflies befriend bees? I guess that's like asking why it snows in the winter. It just happens. I'm sorry I can't fly. Maybe I can swim along behind you in my pond? No? Okay. That's fine. You want to see the world? Do it. Just stop pretending you'll come and visit me. My own little lake is just more roomy this way. Goodbye, butterfly. Yes, goodbye.
