Object #2

Like a moth to a flame – a common term used for what describes the compulsion one feels to self-destruction for some simple gratification. There is some level of empathy in the term, the end of life, especially by oneself, seen in a dubious light tainted by shadows of ignorance & doubt. Largely it’s pity though. Such an end for all you know may have been the most peaceful moment in its entire lifetime, but you’ll ‘pity the fool’.

Fortunately, my end isn’t pitied in such a way. I’m rarely even noticed. Perhaps because the moth is a living entity & I am not.

Unlike Object #1, or the moth for that matter, my lifespan is short. I am one of many like me but not quite me. I rarely stride alone. We march, me & mine, different yet the same, we march. Some might say my purpose is simply this. Marching vertically towards a battle never won. Upon impact I am to be destroyed, I know this, you know this, but it doesn’t matter.

Depending on the frequency of my squadron, the army I encounter in my final moment differs. Some shield themselves from me, some just take me for granted ignoring me knowing me alone can do them little damage. Some process me as a nuisance, yet some observe the arrival of me & mine with a pleasant smile. It’s ‘me and mine’ in those moments that get the attention, rarely just me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t seek your pity, your empathy, your money or your unborn children, for the end is simply the beginning once more, but a possibility I put forward unto you all. Every once in a while, show that you care, take a moment & observe my short life, for if you take relativity into account, we aren’t as different as you might think.

Catch me with your hand.

I am a unique snowflake.

A moth to no flame.

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