Impending

The flies are around. They can sense, what is going to happen next. They know that the moment of me slashing my abdomen open is impending. The flies fly in a swarm beside me. They follow me everywhere. At work, in the bathroom and even when I am on my bed. Most flies are polite, as they patiently wait from a distance as to not disturb their meal.

I sincerely appreciate their consideration, however there is a few pesky flies that cannot curb their hunger. They fly around my ears and whisper terrible things like “DIE”, “YOU’RE TRASH AND EVERYTHING YOU DO IS TRASH”, “YOU’RE WRITING IS UNINSPIRED”. The latter is always their go-to, whenever I able to ward off their irksome words. The latter stops me because it’s true.

The wicked flies constantly read my works, so who would know better than them. The vexatious flies say that writing is not subjective; bad and boring writing will always stand out for how garbage it is. I plead to them, “Please don’t be so harsh. It is only the first draft.” The flies don’t care. “Hurry up and kill yourself”, they reply. Sometimes, I think I might as well.

I tried killing them with bug spray but they fly so close to me, that I can’t spray them without me getting in the way. I bought a fly swatter and killed a few. Yet, these flies reproduce like two teenagers in heat and if I kill one then three more spawns in its place. My final and current solution is that I bought earmuffs to block out the noise.

It’s working… For now.

I live an ordinary life with normal problems. I do not care about a lot of things. Even so, if the flies continue to criticize my writing; I think I will have to let them win and slash my stomach open and let out all of my blood and the lunch I ate. At least, I would have contributed to the world in some way by being food for their larvae.