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At least You're Not a Boney-Eared Assfish

Next time you're feeling sorry for yourself, just remember, you could live 14,000 feet under the sea in complete darkness enveloped by a constant stream of ominous sounds while other creepy creatures slither in and out of your limited view. It's so dark that you don't know the difference between up and down or left and right. Such is the life of the Boney-eared Assfish.

Its more distinguished moniker, Acanthonus armatus, does little to elevate its reputation. With the smallest brain-to-body mass ratio of any known vertebrate, the gelatinous mass has been observed to be rather lazy with its greatest attribute being merely the ability to exist. Perhaps its most useful contribution to the world is that its dubious name serves as a deliciously nerdy insult that is both obscure yet scientifically sound, as in, "That boney-eared assfish always replies to my texts ten hours later."

That 'boney-eared assfish' always replies to my texts ten hours later.

Let's face it. Sometimes we all have days where we feel like a boney-eared assfish. Ok, well maybe you don't, but I sure do. Being female, and an aging one at that, I don't recognize myself in the mirror (who is that and what did she do with my body, my face, my hair?). Often, I want to go crawl into a cave and not come out (can I get a break from the world for just one day??). And the noise inside my mind can be relentless (kids, house, multiple jobs, and attempts at self-care can feel like being existentially drawn and quartered). It's all I can do just to make it through another day.

The irony is, I want to be alone and recoup and yet paradoxically I struggle with loneliness. It's been a chronic malady my entire life. There have been moments–even seasons– of reprieve. But the overarching theme has definitely been loneliness. I imagine that my newfound blackwater avatar might feel similarly, if its brain were big enough to contemplate ontology.

Do you suppose that schools of boney-eared assfish all gather round to shoot the shit? Naw, I doubt it. Besides, they easily are mistaken for kelp so nobody would even know where the party is. So they drift. Just shifting with the currents and living their best life, such as it is.

Here's what I'd say to that boney-eared assfish when it's little brain, bearing the weight of a single-sized, airy bag of Cheez-its, starts getting her down... You are a subtropical marvel who has survived harsh conditions, adapted to your environment to swim another day, are compellingly enigmatic yet funny, know when to go with the flow, and are durable as shit. Glow up girl, you are the queen of your own world.


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