The illusion of control and responsibility can be maintained whilst enduring the utmost horror and unpleasant, that can easily be passed as gasseous bubbles emerge, forming clouds and obstructions in life.
They are a blockage - the cause of nausiating and uncontrollable convulsions.
Butterflies, for instance, are perceived to be the bringers of happiness; fluttering past in a haze of patterns vivid. But these same Butterflies, set loose, cause agonising writhing as they claw at the insides. Perhaps this is maturing. When Butterflies are sent to magnify nervousness, destroy appetites and overwhelm.
The pain of Butterflies is soon forgotten, in time. The pain needs no loosely-strung, over dramatic string of adjectives or emotions to describe it.
It speaks for itself.
The stories however, are made no less painful by the universality: blood noses, awkward stumbles, interminable silences, drunken revelations and the like. So meek and passive. Changing the topic.
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