Venting The Butterfly Debt

[SatinSoul]

they tell you the chaos theory is beautiful. it is the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings in a distant forest can eventually create a hurricane on the other side of the world. but they don't tell you what it's like to be the person standing where that hurricane lands, over and over and over again.

i have spent my entire existence watching the horizon. i see the clouds gathering, i feel the pressure drop in my chest, and i run. i move to a new town, a new field, a new quiet corner where the air feels still. i tell myself that this time the butterflies will be silent. i unpack my life into the drawers and i start to believe that i am finally safe from the wind.

but there are too many butterflies in this world.

somewhere, a thousand miles away, something tiny and insignificant happens. a word is spoken, a breath is taken, or a heartbeat is skipped. the chain reaction begins. the math doesn't care that i just finished rebuilding. it doesn't care that the splinters in my hands from the last house haven't even healed yet. the storm finds me. it always finds me. it rips the roof off before the paint is even dry, and i'm left standing in the rain, holding the ruins of a life that was never allowed to take root.

i am a professional at starting over. i am a master of the clean slate. but every time i pick up the hammer to start again, the handle feels heavier. the wood feels more brittle. the scream in my throat is getting louder, but it's a silent one. it is the kind that makes your lungs feel like they're full of seawater.

when do i get to stop? when is the debt to the chaos finally paid?

i am so incredibly tired of being the person who survives the storm. i don't want to be strong anymore. i don't want to be resilient. i am tired of looking for a new town that doesn't exist. i want to stop running. i want to look at the horizon and see the black clouds coming and just stay. i want to let the wind take what's left of me. i want to stop avoiding the fate that keeps chasing me across every border i cross.

if i stop rebuilding, maybe the butterflies will finally go quiet. if i let the storm have its way, maybe i can finally find the rest that the quiet towns never gave me.

oh my love, can i finally put the hammer down?
oh my love, can i finally admit it?
my love, i am so excruciatingly tired!

 

[CatLvr]

"i am so incredibly tired of being the person who survives the storm. i don't want to be strong anymore. i don't want to be resilient. i am tired ..."

This resonates with me SO HARD. I understand. And my heart breaks for you.

 

[IsolatedChaos]

Your writing is beautiful. I'm happy you've shared your emotions with us

Moreso, I can really connect to what you've written. The amount of hurricanes I've been through is ridiculous. It's way more than what most people go through, and I swear I'm being objective about this. I'm so done with rebuilding; I started with barren ground from the day I was born.
I've given myself one more year. One more year, with a clear end goal, and I'm going to give it my all. But if this year fails, I'm going deep into the sea, where the winds won't catch me anymore.

 

[Forever Sleep]

I agree with others, this is so beautifully written.

I have wondered that about the world in general. Do good things happen at the expense of bad things? It does kind of seem like it. One animal eats another to survive. One person enjoys luxury while others are exploited to provide it. It simply can't be a beautiful world or system if one thing comes at the expense of another.

 

[dreaming]

This is simply beautiful, I have little to add but reading this resonated with my deeply.

 

[kitkatt]

they tell you the chaos theory is beautiful. it is the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings in a distant forest can eventually create a hurricane on the other side of the world. but they don't tell you what it's like to be the person standing where that hurricane lands, over and over and over again.

i have spent my entire existence watching the horizon. i see the clouds gathering, i feel the pressure drop in my chest, and i run. i move to a new town, a new field, a new quiet corner where the air feels still. i tell myself that this time the butterflies will be silent. i unpack my life into the drawers and i start to believe that i am finally safe from the wind.

but there are too many butterflies in this world.

somewhere, a thousand miles away, something tiny and insignificant happens. a word is spoken, a breath is taken, or a heartbeat is skipped. the chain reaction begins. the math doesn't care that i just finished rebuilding. it doesn't care that the splinters in my hands from the last house haven't even healed yet. the storm finds me. it always finds me. it rips the roof off before the paint is even dry, and i'm left standing in the rain, holding the ruins of a life that was never allowed to take root.

i am a professional at starting over. i am a master of the clean slate. but every time i pick up the hammer to start again, the handle feels heavier. the wood feels more brittle. the scream in my throat is getting louder, but it's a silent one. it is the kind that makes your lungs feel like they're full of seawater.

when do i get to stop? when is the debt to the chaos finally paid?

i am so incredibly tired of being the person who survives the storm. i don't want to be strong anymore. i don't want to be resilient. i am tired of looking for a new town that doesn't exist. i want to stop running. i want to look at the horizon and see the black clouds coming and just stay. i want to let the wind take what's left of me. i want to stop avoiding the fate that keeps chasing me across every border i cross.

if i stop rebuilding, maybe the butterflies will finally go quiet. if i let the storm have its way, maybe i can finally find the rest that the quiet towns never gave me.

oh my love, can i finally put the hammer down?
oh my love, can i finally admit it?
my love, i am so excruciatingly tired!

I'm my mother's daughter I am my fathers son I am every missing piece in between
I have always longed but never believed
Always loved fully knowing it won't be reciprocated.
This must be my last life
Surely that's why my being it's wrought with all those outside it.
I feel as if my being has lived eons of suffering and I still only want what's best for others.
So why can man not decide to let evil consume them when I have been enveloped by it and still choose others.

 

[l1ablemistakes]

You have a beautiful way with words. Keep sharing your thoughts, this resonated deeply.

 

[fadedghost]

they tell you the chaos theory is beautiful. it is the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings in a distant forest can eventually create a hurricane on the other side of the world. but they don't tell you what it's like to be the person standing where that hurricane lands, over and over and over again.

i have spent my entire existence watching the horizon. i see the clouds gathering, i feel the pressure drop in my chest, and i run. i move to a new town, a new field, a new quiet corner where the air feels still. i tell myself that this time the butterflies will be silent. i unpack my life into the drawers and i start to believe that i am finally safe from the wind.

but there are too many butterflies in this world.

somewhere, a thousand miles away, something tiny and insignificant happens. a word is spoken, a breath is taken, or a heartbeat is skipped. the chain reaction begins. the math doesn't care that i just finished rebuilding. it doesn't care that the splinters in my hands from the last house haven't even healed yet. the storm finds me. it always finds me. it rips the roof off before the paint is even dry, and i'm left standing in the rain, holding the ruins of a life that was never allowed to take root.

i am a professional at starting over. i am a master of the clean slate. but every time i pick up the hammer to start again, the handle feels heavier. the wood feels more brittle. the scream in my throat is getting louder, but it's a silent one. it is the kind that makes your lungs feel like they're full of seawater.

when do i get to stop? when is the debt to the chaos finally paid?

i am so incredibly tired of being the person who survives the storm. i don't want to be strong anymore. i don't want to be resilient. i am tired of looking for a new town that doesn't exist. i want to stop running. i want to look at the horizon and see the black clouds coming and just stay. i want to let the wind take what's left of me. i want to stop avoiding the fate that keeps chasing me across every border i cross.

if i stop rebuilding, maybe the butterflies will finally go quiet. if i let the storm have its way, maybe i can finally find the rest that the quiet towns never gave me.

oh my love, can i finally put the hammer down?
oh my love, can i finally admit it?
my love, i am so excruciatingly tired!

Are you a professional writer?

That may be the best written post i've ever read on SaSu.

Normal people can't write like that and I know it's not AI.

It's a sad post, but the writing is so good that it distracts from the sadness. You must be a professional published writer.

 

[SatinSoul]

Are you a professional writer?

I am not. Just a random person trying to find the beauty in her pain.
Glad my work resonated with you

 

[itsgone2]

but there are too many butterflies in this world.

This. Plus all of my stupid decisions. Life is a horror show now. I move about with those that are happy and content.
I can only think about death. The world around me decays. I can't think this is the life God wanted for me.

 

[verybabybunny]

If it makes you feel better we've all been sold lies; the 'butterfly effect' as we know it is a dramatization. If you do a simple search you'll see, a butterfly flapping its wings does not affect weather patterns.

Many more lies than this but yeah, it isn't true. Not sure if it makes me feel better or worse tbh.

 

[SatinSoul]

If it makes you feel better we've all been sold lies; the 'butterfly effect' as we know it is a dramatization. If you do a simple search you'll see, a butterfly flapping its wings does not affect weather patterns.

Many more lies than this but yeah, it isn't true. Not sure if it makes me feel better or worse tbh.

I know the butterfly effect is more of a scientific dramatization than a literal rule, but it's a fitting metaphor that captures my struggles. I used it to describe the fragility and uncertainty in my life. The feeling that I have no agency, and I'm just drifting at the mercy of the world's whims. The feeling that I am constantly bracing for impact, exhausted from wondering which tiny, unseen movement will trigger the next storm I have to survive.

 

[gomesemog]

you are such a great writer. i know endowments can't keep us here, and sometimes they are, in fact, a reason to not.

many times, these abilities are not taken seriously and can be the reason to want to go out. i get you, i feel the same, and very same - cuz you can use the words incredibly.

just know that.