A tale inspired by the Butterfly Release
From Egg to Mexico
I started my life as a humble egg born on a milkweed bush. I was one of 700. I loved my brothers and sisters. And those glorious sunny, early days playing on the milkweed never once hinted at the dark specter that milkweed would become.
Maybe it was because mom was always too tired to do much with us kids, but we grew up on the streets. My larval stage came quickly, as it always seems to do when life is rough. And in that time, I developed a powerful addiction. I had to have my milkweed. Nothing else was good enough. Nothing else brought on the high like the milkweed. I hit rock bottom when I started giving $5 hand jobs to spiders just to get some more milkweed. And no matter how much I had, I wanted more.
But finally, some how, I had had enough. I decided I needed to be on my own for a while. I had to get away from the other insects and bugs. I just cocooned for a while and meditated on the state of my being. Maybe it was selfish. I don't know. But I do know that if I hadn't taken that me-time, I'd be dead. The life of a milkweed whore is not an easy one. I tell you.
After awhile though I realized I missed having folks around. So I decided to get back out there in the real world. I had changed a lot in that time on my own. I had worked out and put on some wings. I knew no one would recognize me. This was my chance to start over.
But damn, some one did recognize me, and my first day out in the real world too. I ran into 7-eyes, one of my old pimps -- hell the worst of my old pimps. I ran into him at the Caribou on 10th. He started up right away talking about how I could make some real money what with the wings and all. Turns out Japanese beetles really go for the wings. He even had some milkweed right there with him.
I'll tell you nothing in my life was as hard as turning down that milkweed. I won't lie. I wanted it. I wanted it real bad. But there was one thing I wanted more than that milkweed -- my dignity. And it took a long time for me to get that back and damned if I was going to throw it away again.
But I knew it wasn't safe for me to stay. I had to split, go far away. I didn't even go home to pack. There was nothing but loneliness and bad history there anyway. I just hopped on a plane to Mexico and never looked back.