Here’s Part of an Article Im Working on..

11 Feb

fireflies

 

During the summer in the Midwest, around dusk, fireflies would light up the grassy plains of my neighborhood.  The fields looked like they were papered in electric ticker tape in permanent glittery orbit, with each flying insect’s illumination in blinking order.  All the kids would run inside to get jars and cans to catch the lightening bugs. Anyone who was lucky enough to capture a firefly quickly realized that the bugs would suffocate unless you poked holes in the top of the can. And even then the glimmer of the insect would slowly dwindle. So you were faced with two choices, keep the bug and risk their quick death, or set them free and view their magnificent gleam from a distance.  Both choices seemed cruel and unfair. It’s taken me 29 years of life to accept that there is actually a third best option, realize that you are the firefly. That all the people around you are the fireflies, powered by unspeakable light. 

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