Wanna Bees, by Q. Reyes – Artistic Warfare #33

August 2, 2009 Q. Reyes 1 Comment

Bees are some of the most interesting insects in the world.  Their complex social structure maintains them being relevant in an ever-changing environment.  There’s only one queen bee, and the rest have other jobs that revolve around making sure their queen is well.

As humans we live like bees, work like bees, eat like bees, yet we all want to be the queen bee.  We really do think that the world revolves around what’s important to us individually.  Boy, are we wrong.

Wanna Bees are those people that live with a false sense of entitlement.  They’re the people that will do half of the job and expect full payment.  Wanna Bees will make unattainable goals and bask in the glory of ambition, while they hardly ever complete any task at all.

We all can be Wanna Bees once in a while.  Sometimes it’s hard to gage what to expect, so we become over-ambitious.  We set our goals way too high, only to be disappointed in the long run.  The problem becomes a problem when that’s the only thing we know how to do.  Being a Wanna Bee becomes a never-ending habit.

It’s always weird to me when I catch myself making goals for tomorrow, when as everyone knows, tomorrow’s not promised.  Yesterday I was busy, today I’m resting from being busy yesterday, so that means I’ll have to do that tomorrow.  That’s how I usually do things.

Then I started noticing how successful people are never leaving things for later.  They do them now – “but I’m such a lazy bastard, how can I possibly do something now” – I tell myself.  Then myself tells me “shut up and check your email, that always makes you feel productive.”

Being a Wanna Bee is easy.  It’s all about bragging and bragging.  You don’t need to work when you’re a Wanna Bee because your job is bragging about what you’re about to do. “I’m fixing to do this… I’m fonna do that…” – the first step is admitting you don’t have a clue about what to do next.  I have a hard time doing that.  I let the days pass me by without stopping myself and analyzing the next move.

We all have plans, so we think.  Those plans never work out, unless you’re part of the military, in which case you don’t have a choice since those plans are happening with or without you.

In my mind I want to do so many things, but in reality I only get a little bit done.  Why?  Is it because other things are not important?  Or is it because I want to do too much?

I don’t have a problem admitting I’m a Wanna Bee.  I wanna be a Queen Bee – well, a King Bee sounds better in my case.  But how does the main bee become the main bee?  She’s obviously born being who she is.  So does that mean that I have no chance?  According to my bank account – yes.

Obviously I can’t be the only person in the world that feels this way.  There have to be more Wanna Bees out there.  I hear people bragging all day long about what they’ve done or what they’re gonna do.  So why do I feel guilty about doing so?

The more I think about the issue, the less I care. Sometimes I feel like just saying fuck it and be the King Bee I’m supposed to be.  Then I realize that it really doesn’t matter, because no one care that I’m the King Bee.  My sting is as fatal as getting stabbed by a pillow.

The only thing I can do is keep the faith that one of these days, when I get to heaven, I’ll understand why the hell am I here.  For now I’ll keep candles lit around MOTU’s image in the altar I built him at home, and I’ll keep asking him for all my wishes to come true.  My family thinks this is weird, but I don’t care, because having a man-crush at my age is perfectly normal.

By the way, if you are reading this, you’re about to get some great news coming your way.  Within the next five minutes, you’ll get a visit, text, email or phone call that you’ve been waiting for.  Enjoy.

Q. is like a good decease that spreads over your body causing you pleasure.  Q. also enjoys praying to MOTU for forgiveness and also likes looking at the little superman cartoon of MOTU and talking to it.  Q. tells cartoon MOTU (in a baby voice), “Who’s that prutty MOTU? Look at that prutty MOTU”.  Q. does all of this as he tickles the little cartoon MOTU on the computer screen.