How all the eggs in one basket hatched out both butterflies and ants is beyond me.
One egg laying mother produced young that fly off searching for places filled with beauty and light, while her others burrow into the ground and swear they had no choice.
When did that lack of choice occur?
At what point did they designate themselves children of the dirt, children who get by on powerful demonstrations of how physically strong they are and proud proclamations of how ignorant they choose to be?
The search for truth and growth, whether it is found, or not, is better in my estimation than living in the dark.
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