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It all piled up inside of me.  I couldn't fight it anymore. My soul was torn to pieces by sorrow, and my mind poisoned by fear. Days were filled with darkness and nights were without stars. My friends became my enemies. People's looks were full of judgment and animosity. My life turned into a sad, drunken stain on the book of humanity. I couldn't stop dwelling on my murky past. Even the spirits couldn't cure my sickness; they would only make it worse with time and increasing dosages. I made a decision to end it all... Nobody would shed a tear over me.


I have contemplated suicide for a while by then. It was an uninvited little sinister thought that would come knocking in the moments of despair and leave as sneakingly as it would come. But it would visit more and more with time... Until it started making sense.

I found a cliff in the forest near where I was living at the time. As I climbed it, I felt no doubt.  Finally, I closed my eyes, straighten up, sighed deeply and let myself fall forward letting the gravity do its work. I felt a surge of adrenalin and strong tingling sensation in my lungs which moved to my stomach as I was falling. That's it... No going back... Goodbye.....


Suddenly, I felt warmness in my heart. An exotic feeling I hadn't felt since early childhood. I even forgot it existed. It was as soft as a string on an ancient troubadour's silver lute. I was sure that was the moment of my death. I thought it was all over and I was finally set free. After all that time, I was truly happy, clean and at peace.


I opened my eyes and seen that I was floating. I was sliding thru the air like a bird, like a note in a romantic melody. And that is when I realized I wasn't dead. I was in the arms of an odd creature. A beautiful butterfly woman took me into her arms as I was falling and saved my miserable life... Maybe she had seen something worth saving in all that mess. I thought she was a heavenly angel, and she was an angel, but not of that kind. She smiled upon me and flew me up to the high rocks where her kind habituated.


Her kind was the Butterfly people. Gentle creatures that lived in nests they would build from blue velvety plants that grew up near the clouds. They were a beautiful and quiet race... Even a little timid, which made them ever more mysterious and interesting. They called their home The Pearly rock. It was a high mountain filled with their nests.

The woman that caught me while plummeting into nothingness, who saved me from grayness, was called Annomis. She had a beautiful, good-natured face, smart and charming, with full lips and big, deep violet eyes. Her wings were dark purple with violet stripes along the edges, and with a few yellow spots scattered over them. She was oozing pure beauty. Aura surrounding her was the one of peace and understanding.

She was a fragile flower, but that fragility hid strength, grit, spirit... Spirit that doesn't compromise, no matter what.  Her arms fell safe and comforting as she flew me to her nest and laid me on the soft dewy velvet of her sacred home, covered me with a warm blanket made of feathers from big white birds that would spread their wide wings and fly thru vastness of sky surrounding the Pearly rock... And gently whispered into my ear

„ The gentle forest loves you, the sky loves you. The great white swan loves you. You are sincere... don't give up“.

Those words were like an elixir to me.

After hearing that and seeing her smiling face I faded overwhelmed.

She nursed me back to health in her nest with compassion and love. I lived a significant amount of time with the butterfly people and got to familiarize myself with their ways. Annomis would bring me the warm milk of the crimson mountain goats and big juicy fluorescent green figs. Every night she would tell me stories of heroes and maidens. As I gathered my strength other members of the butterfly people community would come to visit me and talk to me. There was the wise butterfly, the strong butterfly, and the noble butterfly. They were the ones that would fly away every morning to bring the warm milk and the succulent figs. Feeders of the colony. They were the strongest and the most devoted ones that flew the highest.

Butterfly people are an ancient race, preceding human bipedalism.  They are tall as an average human being. Their torsos are muscular and lean. They don't wear close. Men are completely bald and the woman have thin, long hair tied back in a tail. They have big almond shaped eyes without temples and pixie ears.

One color makes their eyes. The wise butterfly had blue eyes, like a deep lake. The strong butterfly had bright red eyes, like lava sizzling out of a volcano. The noble butterfly had green eyes, like a calming meadow in the spring. And Annomis had violet eyes, the eyes of flowers, hope, and mellowness.  Those are the colors of their souls.

They don't talk much, they prefer to listen. In the night time, they frolic in the fluffy clouds under the fiery stars. They love art, especially music. They dance in the air to the romantic sounds of the lyre made of the wood of the old birch trees and the hair of the crimson mountain goats. Musicians are the most valuable members of their society.  Their wings have unique patterns and coloring and are as long as they are, overcoming the width of their spread arms by two.  They worship the great white swan with diamond eyes, as well as nature, present moment and kindness.

They are gracious beings, like vanilla scented air ballerina. A poet's inspiration. They are a concentrated love poem. Good people, the kind that don't look down with condolence, the kind that makes you feel right at home. No matter what you did, or who you are, or what label you carry, they would smile to you. And if you smile back you are excepted. No pretense, no second guess.


I started feeling as a human being after so long, my heart was cleansed, and a smile came creeping back to my face. Those were the days of happiness, the state I didn't even know existed anymore. I started growing wings with time. The skin on my back started itching like crazy for days. Then Annomis explained to me that I'm becoming one of them. That I’m coming home. She would put an ointment on my back every evening after dinner. A balm made of propolis found on the sunflowers on the south side of the mountain. It would cool down the burn on my skin. After some time I notice thin, long gristle coming thru the skin on my back. It was dark blue.


Annomis assured me I was a month or two away from growing a pair of my own wings. I was so happy. I was reinventing myself. I was being born again. It was fantastic.

The Butterfly people never descend to the ground. And they don’t do so for a good reason. On the ground under the pearly rocks, on the foot of the mountain lives another race... The Cow people.


The Cow people keep moouing towards the heights, jealous on the fact that they can’t fly. They can't even climb up because their hooves can’t grasp the bulges of the mountain, and their colossal body weight doesn’t allow them to hop like the mountain goats. Waves of fat jiggle across their grotesque bodies as they breathe loudly. And their breath reeks of rotting flesh... Their tongues are long and slimy. In their eyes, there are small black dots for pupils floating on yellow temples. The deity they worship is a stern, vindictive bull who plays with their souls. A bully that demands to be worshiped… A bully-bull, if You will.

They are loud and incestuous, and cases of cannibalism are common in their community. They are a violent sort that stumps everything on their way.

Same old bastards that killed Wild Bill and Captain America.* They have six teats which spray out black toxic fluid that bites and kills everything that touches. Their brains are made of silicone, and their hearts are hairy. They ironically call their home the falcon valley. They live in gray stables and are afraid of everything new, like science and bright colors.  They are constantly staring up towards the butterfly people and forge their evil plan to slay them all. Only for the fact that they are different.


One day the cow people construct a giant sling shot from which they planned to fire a giant ball of toxic mucus up to the pearly rock, contaminating it and killing all the butterfly people.

Wise flying folks notice that and decide to move from their home. There are plenty of high mountains, and most of them are uninfected by the low lives from the low plains.

So they collected all their holy scrolls and the fairest fruit and continue to migrate...

Annomis took me into her soft arm again, this time with sadness in her eyes.  She flew with me over the clouds not saying a single word, but I could hear her heart weeping. She landed on the ground and gave me a kiss. „ Your home awaits. “ she said,  smiled with melancholy and flew. away.

I wanted to be with her, but I guess a butterfly cannot be with a caterpillar... Just like the sun can't be with the moon, just like the snow can't be with a warm sandy beach. She flew away, and the magnificent sense of comfort flew away with her.

I was left alone, again, on the cold ground while the silhouette of an angel was flying away like a dream. I felt like an abandoned child in a dark, vile forest. Thrown in a well of pain. Maladjusted, alone and afraid.


I will never forget her, nor will I forget the wisdom and grace of her noble people.   The thought of butterfly people stayed with me... And helped me move on, cope and survive.

And made my wings keep on growing, and growing...

Next time I try to leap into my own death I will fly by myself. And dance with the clouds laughing out loud.



Born and raised in Croatia. Lived abroad ( London, Dublin)

A father. Unemployed. A father. 33 y.o.



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