Tuesday, December 30

float like a butterfly? no thanks.

y'know why butterflies get no love from me?
they're too flamboyant.
no, seriously.
i know, i know,
coming from a louder-than-ten,
devout barbarian elevenist,
that might seem counterintuitive,
oxymoronic, even, philosophically speaking...
what i mean is;
i still like dudes who just do what they do,
even when recognition, accolades, and general accredation aren't forthcoming.
i'm sayin',
what about moths?
they sorta blend into the woodsly goodness,
doing pretty much the same things as butterflies,
only when no ones out looking for it.....
and with more earth tones.
and they're a lot hairier.
being pretty doesn't make you better,
doing the right thing, even when nobody's lookin' does.
just be dope, even when you're unexceptionally attractive,
even if you don't have a bright sunshiny flutterby flower power aura.
y'know, moths transform from chrysallized caterpillars, too.
from sh!t-squiggle wigglers to high-flyin' hardworkin' real-deal barklike biters.
instead of being super-showy highfalutin' gloryhole glory-hogs,
they stay ugly,
and still produce their daily dose of dopeness.
that's SO f*n' word up fresh.

social butterflies can chug it, ya'll.
existing,
without the hottness, but spouting 'that's hot' catchphrases,
as if they have any flippin' idea....
rhinestone encrusted foil-printed gold-tone accoutrements,
magical fairy side-ponytail hairstyles,
upside-down sideways flatbrim foolishness,
sleek stretchy pants,
the whole kit and caboodle can get bent.
right off, even.
all flash and no bang.
all lightning, but no striking, and surely no viking.
and a bangin' iphone ringtone is a poor substitute for a boomin' bass-blasted
berserker b!tch-sap-slappin', soul-clappin', weak-sauce entrappin' thunderclap.
recognize.
be ugly.
be dope.
get busy.

papillon poopiepants and lepidoptera losers can ring in their new year like effervescent waterbabies.
i'll be the hoary-assed, reedy, weedy, tweedy woodland hermit, ya'll,
gettin' busy,
doin' what i do,
and endin' the year the same way i began it,
bein' as all-the-way-to-eleven as i can,
as far from the doo-doo butterflies as the goodness allows,
tryin' to stay worthy of the time i've been given,
even when nobody is watchin'.....
luna moths are fancy.
and big.
so there's precendent for reppin' the moth,
and still bein' loud and proud.

float like a moth, sting like an albie,
never quiet, never soft...

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