Butterflies are insects in the macrolepidopteran clade Rhopalocera, from the order Lepidoptera, which also includes moths. I have no idea what any of that is, I got it from Wikipedia. I know that they are beautiful, come in an array of colours and sizes and have very short lifespans; I sound like I’m describing an item of clothing off a cheap-ass fast fashion website that makes use of exploited workers and pretends that it’s Green and ethical but in fact, it is one of the largest contributors to waste, pollution, and exploitation. I came here to talk about longing to feel butterflies in my stomach and instead I have ended up on a rant about companies that make me feel guilty if I throw away a plastic tag but they dump massive amounts of polluted fluids into our oceans and rivers and then get their marketing teams to tell us all how we should bring in our old clothes to them for recycling and in return they’ll give us a plastic fucking sticker that says that we’ve joined the eco war and then when we turn our backs, they dump the clothes we just took to them into the landfill! Yay for them, eco-warriors! Fuck you. I may be desperate for an affordable swimsuit that will actually fit my shape and flatter my lack of an ass, blobby belly and big, bouncing boobies but I am not prepared to sell my soul for it, not yet. Not today Satan!
Instead, I will purchase a swimsuit from a slightly more ethical company, it will not fit me properly, it will not flatter me, and I will probably be too embarrassed to take my t-shirt off rendering said swimsuit completely pointless, however, I will not feel guilty for purchasing it and will be able to look myself in the mirror and say, “Well done girl! You’re fat but it’s all love!” Jiggle jiggle.
I try, just like you. Well, probably you, maybe not the fashionista behind you busy taking selfies of herself holding her frappapappamochasomethingcino from whichever coffee shop chain is currently trending, but I think most of us, wait, I hope, that most of us do try. But the fuckers don’t make it easy. Have you ever tried to eat healthily? Do you see what non-processed, non-plastic-infused food costs? We’re constantly being told that we should be thinner, fitter, and healthier but helloooo!! Look at what that costs. Who is gonna pay for my slice of organic, ethically sourced tomato on a bed of locally sourced, pesticide-free lettuce leaves with a drizzle of genuine locally produced, extra virgin never-had-sex-before olive oil and a pinch of Himalayan rock salt? Why is a hamburger that you make at home 20 times more expensive than a faux burger that tastes like cardboard and 60-day-old plastic? And why am I talking about this shit instead of the damn butterflies that I want to feel in my belly?!
Imagine actually having butterflies inside your actual stomach. I’d probably lose my mind and dig open my own stomach to free the poor dears. And this my friends is probably why I haven’t felt them in a while because my brain doesn’t know how to pick a lane! I constantly feel like I’m speeding down a highway with no brakes and I keep missing the turn-offs. No wonder I have 20 half-written books that don’t get finished because what the hell is the theme, the plot has changed 12 times in the first three chapters and I get so annoyed with the characters that I just kill them off before abandoning the script entirely. It’s quite a handy tool for dealing with frustrations with exes. You write them into the script, then drop them down an elevator shaft or have them fall off a cliff while climbing Everest or something. Maybe if I write about beautiful, healthy foods then I can perhaps enjoy the feeling of wholesome goodness that is only possible in fiction. Or maybe, just maybe, I can write about going shopping for clothes and finding out that the environment wasn’t harmed and no people were exploited during the production of the clothes which fit me beautifully and make me look smashing!
Because that is the beauty of fiction. Reality sucks! Reality tastes like the socks your boyfriend wore all week to the gym, then wore that morning on a 30km cycle with his buddies where they stopped to swim in a dam then cycled another 30km back, stopping along the way to take a dump on the side of the road and then wiping his ass with the socks. That is life. That is what we have to eat, what we have to wear, and what we have to pay for because anything good, wholesome, ethical, or kind is too expensive for the average person on this planet to afford but at the same time, we have to feel incredibly guilty because it is us, the individual’s fault entirely that the planet is dying, not the large corporations that are raping the earth of all her resources. Oh no, they’re totally innocent because they slapped the word Green onto their label.
Now, about those butterflies. They’re beautiful, come in an array of colours and sizes and have very short lifespans, much like my love life.
