A Tale Of A Banana Learning To Fly

1. The Farting Process

It's always been like this, calm and filled with peace,sometimes I'd feel hotdog like projections touching me(i later came to realise that they're known as fingers, my mind capacity at the time was mainly based on the food that came into me through the first mouth I've had before my actual mouth,my belly button)

Needless to say,Life was great, i mean barely moving my toe tall body in a compact region, experiencing no discrimination, being naked all the time, how much better can it get?

Peekabo surprise surprise,it didn't last that much,it was 7 months into the pregnancy(my brain never developed unfortunately) when it was time to fart me out

I was sleeping,normally when I'm interrupted during my sleeping sessions I'd reach to the belly with my feet and start continuesly kicking it because how dare you interrupt my dreams that are filled with nothing.. hey okay even if i wasn't dreaming of a fascinating imagination where i can stick both of my thumbs in my mouth without the side of my lips forming a scar and making me look like mini Joker, i was still at rest and inhibiting me from experiencing that is a straight up satanic act.

This time was different, it wasn't that small shake that woke me up, i felt an earthquake crumble around me.

At first i thought that this was it, my space is going to be permanently invaded, that i wasn't going to be the only one having fun by making the belly as my punching bag,that i was going to have a companion that im going to be forced to love for the rest of my life.

It turned out to be the complete opposite.

After the earthquake i experienced the tsunami,aka me being told to get out because im taking too much space and im making my mom's belly look like Nicki Minaj's butt.

The push I've been experiencing for the past day ( baby times are longer hence why being locked in their room for an hour feels like days ) finally did it's job that i never really cherished,i was out

Look,im not saying that i wanted to learn how to crawl and fall from the bed so i can immediately die but the first thing that was infront of me was a mirror

Either way,Quran was played onto my ears which set me up to the commitment that i can't kill myself

But there was a problem,You know how they say "as smooth as a baby's butt" well that shit doesn't apply to me,Because i was so black doctors needed to spray paint my butt so they can actually see my organs and well surprise surprise all hail the doctors who graduated from a college next to a thrift shop, i was allergic to Spray paint,therefore my butt was full of pimples in a matter of seconds,being in the uteras walls was already much better, not even a minute into my life and i experience racism