That Awkward Chrysalis Cocoon Shit
Somebody I care about a lot, a lot, a lot, is going through a rough time lately. I found myself saying the words: ‘You know what? It’s like before the caterpillar becomes a butterfly. When the caterpillar is doing all that awkward chrysalis cocoon shit, it has to be goo-ey, unidentifiable mush so it can eventually become the beautiful being the Universe intended. That’s all that’s happening to you right now- that awkward chrysalis cocoon shit. It’s a process.” Creepy extended metaphors for the broken-hearted? I haz ‘em. I’m a narcissist, so this discussion, obviously, led me to think about how that sentiment also applies to me- all advice being autobiographical etc. I’m no dummy: maybe I’m doing my own awkward chrysalis cocoon shit right now. In fact, a quick scout over the last few entries of this blog makes that painfully apparent, to the extent that wow, guys. How have you not Tweeted me the name of your best therapist yet? Y’all knew I was dealing with some “stuff” before I did, di