Who's Your Flypaper, Baby?

After careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that most of my troubles could be solved if scientists could figure out what goes through the brain of a fly just before it gets stuck to a piece of paper. Forget the monkeys, I'm pretty sure there is a direct dna link between my brain and that of the fly.

When I was a kid I spent my summer afternoons swimming my life away at my grandma's house. You could count on the midsummer flypaper decoration. One in the garage, one on the porch (which, in retrospect, seems a little unfair to the fly),and finally one in the kitchen. Appetizing. Have you ever looked at one of these things? A strip of sticky with flys trapped it...and they really start to pile up. Regardless of the horrifying site, flies clearly love this shit. The mortality rate is through the roof.

Here is the problem, I can see how gross and deadly fly paper is but it doesn't keep me from zooming right into it, full speed ahead in my own life. For me its a man or two in my life and maybe other relationships. When I get close I can fight all I want but at the end of the day I am stuck. To anyone else,the situations are fly paper...obviously gross,something you swerve to avoid,and potentially hazardous to your health...but to me ooooh what's that..aaaand stuck. Before I know it I can't move.

I don't think its just me though. (Hence the call for scientific exploration). The more people I meet the more I know for sure that each of us has our own version of fly paper. For some of us its a man who broke us down,wore us out and left us different. For others it might be drugs or a friend who leaves us drained. There is always something attractive, irresistable even and while everyone else around us can see the trap we just haul ass to get stuck. So...who's your flypaper, baby?