Garlic bread: a life lesson
My partner bought this pre-made bake-it-yourself garlic bread from Trader Joe's:
I resented it. Maybe because it was wrapped in plastic, maybe because it's unhealthy and greasy. Plus, its form factor was very punchable, so it became a running gag for me to beat it up whenever I walked past the kitchen counter. Like a "haha this thing is stupid; let's throw hands so it knows its place" sort of thing.
A few weeks later, I wanted to try drugs. I bought some kanna gummies and popped one leaving the store. Kanna is a legal drug that you can buy from some cannabis dispensaries in the US. It's a serotonin reuptake inhibitor and is often compared to MDMA in that it lowers anxiety and makes you feel more sociable and connected to others.
On the walk home, my mind raced. I was wondering if the lichen on mailboxes loved each other. Probably other lovey-dovey stuff about the trees and birds and rocks, too.
I got back and lied down on my bed, slowly breathing, thinking, and basking in the bright sunlight.
Every so often, this fat fly buzzed around, bonking into the walls and window and interrupting my thought process. At first it was irritating, but then I realized — oh my god — I am the fly. The fly is me. We were both stuck and wanted out into the world.
I opened the window, and it bzzzzzzed out.
With the fly gone, I wandered out into the kitchen. And I see the Trader Joe's garlic bread.
I felt regretful. Why was violence my first instinct towards the bread? And why did my partner and I find it so amusing when I punched the thing? There's so much pain and hurt in the world already, and I felt sad that that's how I treated it.
The next few moments were spent hugging the garlic bread.1
We thought you'd be dinner, but you actually became a vehicle for change. You made me reflect on my biases, and pushed me to become a better person.
Thank you, garlic bread. I love you.
It was very huggable.↩