The last one, for now.
shoo fly, don’t bother me
This isn’t really the story of a fly but instead it’s a story about a little bee. It might seem kind of strange but it is what it is…
One day a bee was flying around like he did on every other day of his life. There was nothing really unusual about this day. The air was fresh and the grass was green and he was a relatively happy bee. The bee was flying about trying to find the perfect flower to settle down in and to possibly get the taste of something sweet. He looked to and fro but saw nothing that caught his little bee eyes. When he was about to give up hope he saw her in the corner of his little bee eyes. The most beautiful flower he’d ever seen. She was right in front of him so he flew up towards her. He never thought in a million years he would find such a perfect little flower. The sun was setting behind her and it made her glow like an angel.
“Beautiful!” He thought to himself.
He approached this spectacular sight and he wondered if he should try to get to know this flower that sat before him. He thought about it long and hard and decided it was time to see if she would accept him. To his surprise she invited him in without concern and it was the beginning of something beautiful. You see, the flowers need the little bees to help them grow and live and the cycle of life was beginning for these two on this day.
The days passed and the little bee would visit his flower everyday. She lived around the big oak tree and around the corner from a white picket fence. He saw no reason to visit any other flowers because this one was so pleasing to him. She was always so happy to see her little bee fly into sight. She knew it was going to be a good day when she could hear his little wings flapping in the air. She stretched out in the sun and let out a sigh of pure relief and happiness when he would finally arrive and they could spend the day together. She felt loved when he would brush up against her so gently and touch her in the way she liked. The two were very happy to be together.
Many days and nights passed and the two became so close. They were almost inseparable. One day though the little bee told his flower that he had to leave. He said he had to go across the countryside to visit some of his little bee friends. She was sad to hear that he wouldn’t be stopping by for quite a while but she understood that he had to go. She wanted her little bee to have fun. He said he would be back in a few days and they could be together again. She was comforted in knowing he’d be near her again.
The few days turned into a few weeks and then into a few months and the flower never heard from her little bee. She was worried but also knew that something must have come up that had prevented him from coming to see her. Even more time passed and it was more of the same, no little bee came by and she was even more worried. This went on for a few more weeks and her worry turned into sadness. She missed him so much. She didn’t know where he was or what he was doing but she did know he wasn’t by her side. It started to get to be too much and the flower just couldn’t stand straight up anymore. She couldn’t find the strength to rise towards the sun and while she hid from it she began to wilt and her beautiful colors faded.
The little bee had decided that he’d had enough fun and started to head back to his beautiful flower. After all this time he knew he really missed her. It had been a very long time and he had done many things that he probably should not have done. As he flew across the country side he visited many other flowers. He did not taste them all but he was tempted many times by things that were really quite sweet. He knew that nothing compared to his flower back home but he still wanted the taste of something while he was away. He rounded the oak tree and directed himself towards the white picket fence. Something was different. He didn’t see her in the setting sun. He didn’t see her glow. As he got closer he started to realize something was very, very wrong. He wondered what was happening and a dark feeling edged it’s way into his mind.
He finally saw her, but it didn’t look like her. She was bent over and had turned all gray. He raced towards her. He buzzed loudly and flew all about trying to stir her back from what looked like a very sad slumber. She didn’t budge. She just kind of swayed in the wind. He tried franticly to get her to wake up. He brushed against her the way she liked but nothing was happening. His worst fears were being realized. She wasn’t going to wake up. Any traces of life that ever existed inside her were gone. A tear came to his little bee eye and then another and another. She was gone.
The bee went into a tailspin and crashed into the ground. He looked up at her as she wilted towards him and his heart was broken. She still looked beautiful to him. All his time away had killed what was most important to him. He was caught up in the wonderment of the huge countryside and all the adventures he was having. She had waited so long and did not allow any other little bees to come close to her. She had given up everything just because she wanted to be the only flower the little bee visited. It wore on for so long that she couldn’t survive the harshness of being alone and she gave up. With no one to keep her company her beautiful spirit had died. The little bee hung his head in shame. He flew up to her one last time and brushed up against her so gently and touched her in the way she liked. He turned around and he flew away, never to see her again.
for a friend…
“for a friend…”
Current mood: inspired
Category: Art and Photography
I know it’s OK and I know you’re OK but my mind moves where it wants and is inspired in random moments. You have all you need to get through anything, I’ve seen it first hand. I know I’m not the one that’s ever been there for you and my regrets about that aside I’m happy to see you grew wings regardless. You’re strong and rest assured you’ll never be alone when the memories are the worst part of waking up.
The shadows grow taller and if you allow it they’ll block out the light. It’s temporary but it makes walking a struggle. You know the terrain is familiar and you don’t always need to depend on the things you can see with your eyes. Your eyes are beautiful by the way. Sometimes you just gotta close them and use your memory to get around. It’s an amazing power. It can paint the most vivid pictures when times are tough. It can bring you back to beautiful places and times that may not be better but they are pretty times that comfort you in times of loss. You’ll never lose the sweet ideas that rest in your head and don’t forget that sometimes the memories are the best part of waking up.
You’re on a straight shot and you’re focused and I know you have success coursing through your veins. It makes failure impossible for you, I’ve seen it first hand. Your new found confidence is stunning and I hope it never leaves you. You know I would protect you from anything that comes to hurt you but I know you got it covered. I wrote something for you once, well many times actually but this one in particular was going to be the basis of something pretty big and meaningful to me. The negativity does take a back seat from time to time my dear. The words are so true even when they’re taken out of context and they’re quite simply put… “I doubt you’ll go to waste, you’re far more braver now than you could ever think.”
It’ll hit you square in the face and you’re gonna go down fast. It might knock some sense into you and that might be a good thing but it also might knock you out and that might be better. Let me tell you something. It’s not better. It’s not like you can run away forev
er. It’s not like if you turn around 180 degrees and start running that it won’t catch up to you. I’ve been running for so long and I’m so tired. I just want to collapse or maybe find a way to walk comfortably for a couple miles at least. Is that really too much to ask at this point? I’ve ran so much my entire life that you’d think I’d be a lot thinner than I am. The metaphoric weight loss hasn’t found a patent yet, but you can’t buy a damn thing with the metaphoric money you make from all your metaphoric sales anyway.
Shame on you. The voice inside will not shut its mouth. I’m not even sure a mouth exists. I think it’s more like some kind of messed up ESP where I am the medium and you are the resounding silence. I hate this new wardrobe. It fits like nothing should. It cuts off circulation to my brain but the scarier thing is that it blocks all the bad ideas from getting out. It’s like a dirty fishbowl in there and we can’t seem to figure out how to fix the filter. It’s clogged with notions that are mistaken for fact. If you try really hard you can force the water through. It’s not totally clean but it’ll make a man out of you yet, boy.
I want to find less misery and more lofty ideals. I want to wake up and think the day is about to meet its match. I want it all. I want the rain that comes to soak me to be deflected off the glow of my smile. I want a dream to become a reality and I want to be the one that forces that nightmares away. I want to hold you one more time before I slip out of existence. I want the prize at the bottom of the cereal bowl to be something that will save our souls. I want to see the pain and the hurt coming towards me at speeds greater than any man has witnessed and I want to duck.