"Just my luck, she's a butterfly bomb"
it was about four in the morning, and my brother's description of his beautiful dream was whirling around my head, and seamlessly blending itself with bits of a poem by dorothy parker and a song by machines of loving grace...he called me butterfly bomb; the embodiment of a random force in nature. but, wasn't it paradoxical to be both embodied and random? the idea of constant, unprecedented change didn't seem to sit well with a human physiology. and so i continued to walk up and down the road. for hours i walked, wondering about the physics of sudden, genuinely random change on the workings of the body...months later it led to the current theories of quantum genetics, but at the time, nothing mattered but me. if what he said was true, was i unstable? would i return to the void from whence i came like the ia'belili he imagined me to be? these, i decided, at about noon, were not questions that i could answer before breakfast...