text: Once upon a time, there was an old man that yelled at a glass of milk. The glass of milk didn’t do anything except being a simple glass of milk. The old man was lonely and lived in a small yurt in the backwoods of northern Michigan. One afternoon, he bought milk from his local grocers and poured himself a nice glass of ice-cold milk. When he took a sip, he started having casual conversations with the milk. It started with small talk such as asking about the weather and asking about its feelings. Then the conversations escalated to talking about the future, philosophy, and life. Two months later, the old man grew tired of the milk. He was still drinking out of that same glass of milk. Inside that glass was the same milk from two months ago. The old man took a sip out of the glass once a month. By now the milk would have turned nasty and smelly but it didn’t. The milk was immortal. It was ageless. That milk could go on for years and even decades without going bad. No one knows why. Even when it was super old and months past its expiration date, the milk still looked beautiful and white. The old man grew jealous of the milk. That piece of fluid could retain its youth and beauty but the old man himself couldn’t do that. Instead, as the old man aged, he had saggier wrinkles, more liver spots, and a receding hairline that went all the way to the back of his ears. The more jealous the old man became of the milk, the angrier he became. He yelled at the milk regularly. Everything irritated the old man about the milk. The angrier he became, the whiter and more beautiful the milk became. Next thing, the milk was glowing and developed a glittery rainbow aura around the glass. After seeing what this glass of milk was doing to his self-image, the old man grabbed the glass and tossed it against the wall but the glass never broke. The milk never poured out. The milk became prettier, whiter, shinier, and...stronger. It tasted better and creamier. It was the most beautiful glass of milk in the world. Odd enough, the old man’s wrinkles sagged even further down his face. He was beginning to look like a Bloodhound with a giant bald spot. The angrier he became, the glass of milk, in turn, became brighter, more vibrant, and more attractive. When the glass of milk became more attractive, the old man became uglier. Next thing, the old man couldn’t speak anymore. His ramblings were unrecognizable. His face was so saggy and wrinkly, he couldn’t speak without lifting his saggy upper lip and chin to speak. The old man eventually turned into a sagging sack of human meat while the glass of milk turned into...well nothing. It was still a glittery glass of beauty. Had the old man learned to shut up, controlled his jealousy over a piece of liquid, and drank his milk, he would’ve been just as beautiful as that glass of milk.