"Check out The Bipolar Tree!" I yelled with all my might....
A crowd of people gathered and stared skeptically.
I pointed fingers. They murmured.
"Look. Oh dear. It's growing both thorns and blossoms!" I announced with the authority and pride of a knowing savant.
But the unwitting mob just shrugged and walked right through me.
Some even took the time to inveigh -but passively- against my lunacy, my erratic tending to such a rather common occurence, even if whimsical, yet still common.
"It's merely a caprice of a troublesome God." As someone chose to put it.
My eyes wandered desperately, pleadingly, but my twisted logic seemed to have dissipated the masses.
Their verdict was forged, their sentence executed.
I looked back at The Bipolar Tree.
It still carried its thorns and blossoms proudly, the stigma of its madness, mine, yours and theirs. Maybe even our collective self righteousness?
I patted its trunk with feeble affection then took my turn at giving it my back.
But as i walked away i felt its spine deep into mine, digging at my now-faint heart.
And i reckoned it was now its turn.
The Bipolar Tree was judging me.
Labels: Tales Of The Butterfly
