The Butterfly That Never Flew,

Here lately I’ve been going through some things. The types of things that require 3 hour naps, random visits to bars, hiding in quiet rooms and visiting museums when I’m supposed to be at my internship. I’m almost 25; and for some reason, that fact is literally scaring the poop out of me. I guess you could say that I’m having a “quarter life crisis”. I look to my left and people are securing job positions left right and center; then I look to my right and people are dating, married, and or popping out babies. I look in the mirror and I am doing none of the above.

So, what’s a 24 almost 25 graduate student barely hanging on for dear life to do? Well, I don’t know and at this point life sucks and then we die. Regardless, today is one of those days I took that 3 hour nap after work and internship, therefore making me wide awake.. so.. I’s goin to tell a story. *clears throat

One day on a farm in the middle of nowhere, a butterfly began to burst forth from its cocoon. (This is a short story by the way and not original so don’t sue me) Day after day, the butterfly pushed harder and harder to burst forth from this cocoon, but the wings were not ready. A farmer had been watching the butterfly in this cocoon for a while, and really took sympathy on it. He could tell that the butterfly was struggling, and thought “you know what, I’ll help the butterfly out and slit this cocoon”. So he cut the cocoon with a pocket knife and the butterfly fell to the ground and died..

Now, when my professor told me this story in class today, I thought well damn that escalated quickly. Lol but in all seriousness, unfortunately there’s beauty in this ugly ahhh process. The farmer slit the cocoon too soon and the butterfly’s wings were not fully developed to support its body, therefore it died. What am I saying? Idk. I just be talkin honestly. I guess struggle builds muscles? If you’re like me and not where you wanna be, looking at everyone else and feeling like “Why bother, lemme get on this pole ..” first off, don’t. Strippers don’t have insurance. 

Perhaps everything you are going through now is perfect preparation for life down the road. So you don’t have a relationship? Maybe you’re like me whose “Issa husband’ing” every 5 seconds when in reality “Issa negro whom is just as confused as you”. I don’t know your struggle, but I do know it builds muscles if you fight it. Just don’t slit your cocoon before you’re ready and bust ya ass.. cause that’s no fun.
Good night. Stay black. ✊🏿

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