More exploring the mind.


frozenbrains

So i was exploring the possibility of overcoming the fear of butterflies. I was sitiing upstairs the other day. I notice one of the most amazing things to do in life is bird watching. Of course, bird watching means being out in the open and that means the possibility of a butterfly strike. So i am normally looking out for butterflies to run away from. That’s probably why a small little bird that has a high speed flight always looks like a butterfly to me. Obviously, i am afraid of it. Because i think its a butterfly. How exactly does fear work?

I have always been afraid of butterflies but it took me a long time to realize it. I am now 27. I can tell it is only in the past fifteen years that i have realized that i am afraid of it. I should have been 13 when i was in my twelfth, when we were out in kodaikanal, a hill in india. We were on a school excursion, and according to the itenary we were supposed to go to the butterfly museum. I thought it was natural that my teachers would understand when i said that im afraid and i cant go. So when i told my teachers and they thought that i was lying, i bursted out in tears. All my friends cried along with me. Some of them cursed the teachers and said that were horrible people. I felt comforted.

Anyway i could never remember exactly why i cried. The more i thought of it, the more i recollected and understood. After years i understand what exactly happened that day. I cried because they didnt believe me, but they did leave me behind and go to the butterfly museum. I imagine the dead butterflies in the museum kept inside glass boxes, hung on the wall on display. I probably cried because i wanted them to believe me. They believed me because i cried. But trust me, i could not have gone in. Like my friend asks.. what is the worst that could have happened? Well, the worst? I could have seen those glass boxes.

You don’t really understand my fear, do you? I understand they’re dead. They cant fly or sit on my nose or anything but the idea of going to see butterflies. The idea of a butterfly. I have never understood why i feel afraid. Obviously there is an idea hidden somewhere that i don’t understand.

Let me be honest. I hate butterflies. I think they are ugly. I don’t know why, but i do. Its probably because of my mother. She hates herself and so i ended up hating butterflies. It makes sense. They are all great for theory but what about my life? So here it is, the only possibility of overcoming this fear is to actually like the butterfly. Oh my god. Is this real or what?

To like a butterfly… Hm. !

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