Sometimes, I Hate Aphrodite

Hear me, reader. The views I have today will disappear instantly, as long as the words remain unwritten. Sometimes, nature is quiet; and sometimes, nature allows me to hear my inner thoughts.

When I think of nature, I think of evil.  I think of birds. How many birds will pop open mating frogs, by the time I walk a lap around the park? How many birds will poop on some kid's clothes? How many birds will peck and spit out worms and insects? How many birds in the sky I must ignore, because my dad would tell me not to pay attention to them whenever I'm with a group of people?

When I think of evil, I think of Aphrodite, who brings beauty to her surroundings. I am at the park where I see Aphrodite, relaxing under a tree; the tree with the most bloomed flowers. I am inferior to Aphrodite, who wears citrus-scented body butter. NO. That is not Aphrodite, but some bitchy classmate. That classmate who had three-way pictures of her daily outfits on Instagram. That classmate who often commented about my clothes and claimed that I tried to copy her. Anytime I tried to 'copy' her was pure coincidence. She is a flower, but not a flower I'd grow in my yard. A flower I’d rather burn with the trash.

Aphrodite is the fruit tree I want at home. You need two trees, so they will cross-pollinate. Her infallible, unchallenged beauty is a new and pleasant smell. Her clothes inspire me to find similar clothes in my wardrobe.

Aphrodite bites an orange plucked from the finest tree in the land, sold in the town's cleanest grocery store, and priced by the store's most hygienic cashier. I wish I could kill Aphrodite and sell her body parts on Etsy. I'd get rich from her oranges, rumored to make your cum taste sweet. Do you understand, reader, that mentioning websites will make my words obsolete and unfit for study? This is intentional, so Aphrodite will remain forgotten; a pop fiction character of interest. 

Aphrodite stares at the grass and imagines the spider lilies that grew in the fall. She recalls the taste of a lily she sucked like a sunflower seed. She did it to stay  beautiful; I'm sure of it. She plucks a lily Hades planted for Persephone and sucks every part but the stem. Then, she uses the stem as a bookmark. The book she's reading is in a language she knows with ease.

Suddenly, Aphrodite looks and smiles at me. I bet she's ignorant of her surroundings and of who she is. Aphrodite’s smile reminds me of better days in my childhood; days in which I felt like a child instead of a caretaker or someone who needed to be smart all the time; I guess it’s blissful ignorance. 

Why do I care about Aphrodite? Because she's given warmth and kindness. Her hair represents freedom and success. I shouldn't care about Aphrodite, because she is a commodity.

Why is Aphrodite evil? She is evil, because I said so. It's natural to think that there are only good and evil people around you; the good people tell you the harsh truth, while the evil people tell you a misleading truth so you'll agree with them. Aphrodite must be a person who tells you a misleading truth, so she'll use you to make herself look better.

Hear me, reader, because I am important. I am not Aphrodite, but I want to eat her face, so I can steal her beauty. I want to eat her heart, so I can smell like the first day of spring. I want to shave her scalp, so I'll never worry about going bald.

I hate Aphrodite, yet I do not know her. I just want her dead and digested in my intestines. I want to steal her things and burn them with my trash. The bright flames will burn among lush green bushes, flames dripping like morning raindrops from trees. Hear me, reader, you miserable wretch. I hate Aphrodite. To me, she has no value. Life is precious, but she is not. She is an empress who looks at me with pity. Why does it sadden me? I want nothing to do with Aphrodite.

What does it mean to be evil? I think it's mental enslavement or economic disparity. A facade that lures and persuades people to revel in its beauty and offers them the sweetest fruit that turns bitter when only they eat it. 

We provide a product or service for visual consumption or for further study. How will Aphrodite and I profit from each other? I will profit from Aphrodite before she gets the chance to profit from me. She will not get much from profiting from me.

Aphrodite isn't Persephone, returning to her mother after Hades rapes her for six months. She's not Echo, reduced to a sound after Narcissus rejects her. Aphrodite is her own person, turning those more beautiful and talented than her into grotesque monsters. Would I sit by her and try to be her friend? Would I try to get to know her, knowing full and well that I dislike her?

How would I feel if I saw Aphrodite’s true self? Nothing replaces the hatred I have for Aphrodite. What does it mean to be evil? Am I evil? Am I becoming evil, because of my hatred for one person who isn't a real person? What if I've been evil all along?

Sometimes, nature is quieter than usual, like a small dog peacefully lying on a bed. Air conditioning is a symbol of comfort, laziness, and luxury. The wind is calm, like Aphrodite's voice. Would she prefer the outdoors to the indoors? She isn't complaining. The weather is too perfect to complain. I've done enough complaining for today.

Forgive me, reader, because my thoughts are the sky-darkened clouds before the storm. The thoughts are the cold air lingering throughout the early morning. Each walk promises a better future. Each walk doesn’t include an Aphrodite.