Nature does not have your back.
The tiny fly drives to work every day
so full of dread.
You’re just a fucking fly.
It’s so dangerous all alone here.
The Midwest is nothing more than a war zone.
The cows hate the horses here and so it goes.
On the 45 minute commute she chain smokes 100’s and listens to affirmations in the soothing key of E, via Bluetooth about positivity.
The sun is never warm here.
She’s a city fly from nearly 8000 miles away and here the country flies have their country ways and it’s something about her that makes them feel inferiority as fiercely as she feels afraid.
But she has a job to do and she is good at it and cigarettes will never be free.
You’re just a fucking fly.
The country flies are bigger than she is, being from the fly family Phoridae and for some reason they think that bigger is better. And better certainly means smarter. And smarter must be synonymous with entitled.
She unlike them, is just trying to make ends meet for her and her baby flies.
She never goes anywhere special at night and she has no fly mister at home to hold onto.
There’s no ocean here.
She does her job, smiling at strangers that hate her, whistling uplifting songs in the break room and smoking area. Her face hurts from faked smiles.
One day, out of the blue, she gets an ant for a manager.
This ant was a big shot at some other company.
This ant has a bunch of ants coming into the fly office soon in some sort of psychopath coup to create synergy and impactful leadership.
She doesn’t think impactful is a word.
This ant, like the flies here, is stupid country. And country ants have their country ways.
You’re just a fucking fly.
She knows she doesn’t belong here, the ant boss lets her know this in the most subtle key of G major.
So she goes home every night, deflated but remembering her purpose here is to feed and be fed.
Nobody is really friends with anyone else here.
The deer hate the horses here and so it goes.
One fine day the ant makes an attempt at a psychological attack.
Nature itself does not have your back.
Unfortunately, like ants tend to, the boss underestimated the tiny ant.
Being nearly invisible is easy around here.
The country creatures all voluntarily misunderstood.
They mistook her fear as a personal frailty and not the kindness that it was.
At any moment, if she chose to, she could lay so many eggs, eggs tinier than a grain of salt in her ant boss’ head, so many many eggs that her ant boss’ head would get so heavy that it would literally drop off it’s body.
Decapitation is another kind of truth. Nature does not have your back.
But she doesn’t.
You’re just a fucking fly.
She just does her work and watches Iyanla videos on YouTube during her lunch.
Murder is an option here.
And so is positivity.
Instead of doing what she was designed to and what the ants feared she might do ( hence all the animosity) she takes constructive feedback and swallows the blood on her tongue.
Eventually she will be able to go back home if she just plays it cool, saves up and plans her timed escape to Asia.
This has an impact.
This helps her sleep.