Hello world. Not to say my life has been a complete disaster, but I definitely hope your doing better than I am. My story starts in the heart of Guatemala, where I’m an adolescent youth free of bruises and hardship. And yes, I am a banana.
2 weeks later. I’m just over a half-month old, I’m learning and growing everyday. But alas, some painful things I would have been better off not experiencing. One day a large man approaches with a metallic box. Suddenly, he lifts and points and Poof! I get hit with a face full of pesticide. Pesticide tastes like the worst thing ever. Dead fish? I think it’s the human equivalent of being blasted with radioactive rays in a tanning booth. But I digress. I endure past the unpleasant chemicals, and anyways, there supposed to be good for me in a twisted sort of way.
3 months later. Enter me, a now full-grown banana, rich with knowledge and potassium, friends and family in a bunch surrounding. The stifling overhead sun vacuums the water from the air. Thank heaven for the rain. I’m a deep yellow, and I’m happy as a Guatemalan banana in August. But this can’t last. One sad day, a machete wielding local approaches, jumps, and swings with deadly accuracy, severing me from my friends and family. From here I’m dragged into a truck piled high with many of my same kind. Days later I end up in a large building with a sticker labeled “Guatemalan” and “Dole”. My name becomes a bar code, devoid of personality and expression. I’m nothing more than a numbered commodity.
Fortunately, us bananas believe in reincarnation, as are my thoughts as I’m being eaten and mashed by some Homosapien, although it really doesn’t hurt. Weird. Be kind to bananas!
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