ORIGINS: This one was easy. Just take the word butterfly and split it in two. In the original series there was a book titled BLUE BUTTERFLIES. It made us think of blue cheese, but since the butter was already there, we decided to keep it simple, and not to let our imagination fly too far away.
Reality is mean. It’s depressing. It’s not fair. I can dream up beautiful butterflies. I can feel them fluttering inside my stomach, making me feel alive. Why does reality have to be melted butter and ugly, noisy flies? Why can’t I hold on to my dreams? Why don’t I get to keep them when I am awake?
A thief came, late one night. He took everything of value, everything of beauty, that made up my life. I only got to keep my tears. But I don’t want to cry. Because that would make my eyes look like melting butter. Like all the other ugly, everyday, meaningless things that make up the world. And I don’t want to become one of those. I don’t want the flies to find me appealing, I don’t want them to come. I don’t want them to fly around me, as if I were already a corpse, with nothing left to live for.
See? See that butter melting in my mouth? That means that you owe me an apology, because I never lied to you. I never pretended to be innocent and good. That was all you. Don’t try to deny it. You told me once that beauty was in the eye of the beholder. And that means that you saw innocence and goodness where there was none, because that is what you wanted to see. You can’t blame me for the loss of something that only existed inside your mind. Now apologize to me. Before this fly drinks what’s left of the butter, making my proof disappear, and letting your eyes take charge again.
You told me once that there was beauty to be found in everyday things too. That there was more to the world than a bunch of colorful butterflies, whose beauty didn’t even last two weeks. You told me that I would be hurt, if I spent all my life chasing ephemeral beauty. That I should take a closer look at the things that would still be around me in two weeks time. And you were right. I have discovered that flies have nice wings too, and watching them die doesn’t make me sad. And I thought that I should say thank you. Because if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have put all my butterflies in my dreams, where their beauty will be safe from the sun.