I ate Royal Jelly this morning. Not to be confused with KY Jelly, Royal Jelly is the food that the worker bees feed the queen bee to help her make lots of baby bees.
So, common sense dictates that I, in my relentless quest for a baby bee of my own, should eat Royal Jelly too.
It's been 16 hours, and I'm still gagging. And I still have no baby bee to call my own.
I can't help but notice that the line between insanity and wisdom seems awfully blurred these days.
To illustrate: I've decided that Royal Jelly is probably best saved for the bees. And yet I find myself dreading tomorrow morning, when I'll choke down another spoonful.
Because you never know.
I used to think I understood strength and beauty. I only knew fragments. But the bees, and the blur, and the putrid jelly...like it or not they are here, beautiful in their bizarre and unwanted way. And so I know strength.