Idowatfimom.
One of the profound truths discovered by Hata is that "Can't" doesn't exist. Every time Lu complained about her "can't’s," Hata would respond with iron-like clarity: "Can't doesn't exist." He always reminded her of the idea that "can't’s" are simply "don't wants" in disguise, and this notion resonated with Lu, often helping her rediscover her sense of empowerment. She frequently forgot that "can't’s" were just "don't wants" or "don't want’s enough."
"How do I know what I want and what I don't?" This question was consuming Lu these days. Her search for home seemed to be leading nowhere, and she arrived at the familiar conclusion: "I can't find it," a full stop in her punctuation system for actions.
"What if I don't want to find it?" A thought that had yet to fully form, a vague feeling, was crawling into Lu's mind like a mental caterpillar, ready to transform into a lively butterfly. She wasn't sure how to accommodate another butterfly in her already crowded mind. She needed to reorganize some mental space and create a new arrangement for her beloved inner thoughts.
Lu couldn't recall how she acquired her first butterfly; it felt like they had always been with her. Some stayed longer, while others faded quickly. She didn't keep a count. She once attempted to add coloring pigment to the sweet honey water they were consuming, causing their antennae to turn electric pink. This was meant to help her keep track, but her butterflies always played together, and the paint ended up all over their delicate bodies, affecting the experiment's accuracy. Lu abandoned the counting and welcomed them all.
Initially, she knew little about butterflies and had to spend hours studying books and interacting with them to understand their habits and favorite treats. Lu learned that caterpillars were small, hairy creatures that primarily enjoyed eating sugary snacks. When they grew weary of their consumption, they paused to contemplate the emptiness behind their obsession with food. In that moment, they began to spin glowing, silky threads from their mouths, shifting their focus from eating to creating. This process was secretive, and caterpillars were shy while weaving, totally naked and exposed. They preferred taking their time and space to undergo transformation. Lu often tried to interfere but realized it was detrimental. Prematurely opening the cocoon proved fatal for the butterfly, as the half-formed thought would consume itself, ending in nothingness. This saddened Lu, and she learned to observe from a distance, keeping her mind tidy to provide the right environment for thoughts to evolve. When the time was right, they shed the scaffolding and revealed their beauty. It was always a surprise for Lu to see what colors her newborn thoughts would have. Some were less attractive, and she hesitated to release them into the open sky.
These remarkable creatures were demanding pets, requiring attention and maintenance. Lu complained about their difficulty but secretly cherished them all. Even now, in anticipation of the birth of a new chubby butterfly she affectionately called "Idowatfimom," which stood for "I don't want to find my home," she felt excited. She wasn't prepared for it yet and needed to create space first.
Lu found the caterpillar that had the potential to deeply unsettle her and placed it in a box, keeping it dry. Warmth and minimal hydration would slow down the metamorphosis as she prepared to welcome this new attention-seeking creature into her mind.