new thoughts on old butter

have you ever really sat down
and looked at a stick of butter?

I have
(in my wildest dreams*)

So,
let´s share our experience.
Experience is valuable*.

Let´s = let us.
For all you n00bs out there.

(hey that´s me)

It was sitting at my table,
but I wouldn´t call it my table.  I was subletting.  It was somebody else's table which, in order to melt a stick of butter on, I was leasing at a fixed rate.

(oh yes take me there)

Ok.

Our supertenant had been keeping the window open, even in the winter, because too much heat allows too much moisture to collect on the ceiling (not intended for moisture) and mildew forms.

It slowly melted after I closed the window to turn the heat up.  

It should be a proverb, but there are already too many proverbs, in too many languages, one is liable to devalue it.  My favorite proverb is ´early ripe, early rot,` which teaches us the value of letting our reserves spawn themselves, of not looking for a climax.  Both of these stories remind me of the golden egg as well.

It begins its slow descent

and I wondered if I should have turned the heat up in the first place.  After all, what would there be to learn from a brick changing into a puddle?

By this point the butter was getting there.
I hoped the table wouldn´t get ruined if things got out of hand.


it began to smell, its corners softened.

"What now?"  It had been a long time with the window closed, and look, it was seeping into the cracks of the table.
"If I open the window now it will harden."


I looked on,
it´s corners passed away.

I poked into the lump and the lump got on my finger.

Yuck.

It coated my finger.  I wanted to whine, or rub it on my shirt and then whine.  Instead I licked it and licked it clean.

(oh god yes, oh god!)


Eventually it began dripping through the table and onto my feet.
I didn´t want to lick my feet, so I took a roll, and rubbed it off.
Then I ate that, and

realized that by eating all of the butter, it it wouldn´t have to go to waste, especially not if I spent the next 6 hours walking or jogging in place.  I could even go to the park.  So many possibilities.

I ate all of the butter in various reprehensible ways,

and then I did so many things,

not just once, but more than once.

Epilogue:
I thought it was interesting that whereas I was feeling like a puddle before watching the it, afterwards I felt as complete and enticing as a whold cold block of untouched butter.

the end.
wow!
a climax*!

*The following text is fictional, or at best pseudohistorical dammit right?
*This is what endeavor teaches us no?
*Alternative ending