August 26 – Apology to the Arthropod Community

So I’ve been giving a lot of thought as of recent, on the intelligence and emotional capacity embedded in insects. Arachnids included. Mainly because, living in a basement, I’ve had to kill whole lot of them lately. I’ll give the little buggars this, they all tend to have pretty good reflexes. Probably cause I like to keep their ‘fight or flight’ reflexes more wired than a crackhead at a Starbucks. (Not worms, though I’ll admit I am a bit skeptical of the true nature regarding their consciousness. Something about their ability to clone through amputation strikes me as ungodly, and I won’t grant any form of procreation devoid the godly act of copulation with the merit of sentience…so tell artificial intelligence and Dolly the fucking sheep to ‘suck it’). However, this continuous usage I’ve instilled, within many of their sympathetic nervous systems, does lead me to believe that I am probably more than likely one of the leading causes for anxiety/stress-related disorders among the arthropod community.

Imagine walking along my carpet, and seeing your comrade’s corpse crushed up desecrated like that?

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“I love lamp.”

I don’t know how I should feel about this. Should I rationalize it like pescatarians do? They are real pests. I’m real conflicted about this. And just imagine the resentment they got harbored for me…

Just the other day I squashed this beetle for crawling around on my turf, but while I went off to obtain a napkin to remove his mangled exoskeleton. from my territory, the little shit just vanished. Now it’s either that I didn’t scope out the area thoroughly enough or this cheeky cocksucking cockroach was actually smart enough to play dead and bide his time till I left. If it’s the latter, I hope that many of those that I have left for dead, ended as intended…I’ve learned from experience that their amongst the more resilient of the animal kingdom. I’ve crushed up insects worse than my hopes and dreams, and I always see them still manage to move their limbs enough to try crawling away…until I finish the job. It really is sadistically uplifting in a way… I really do pray they ain’t a bunch of vindictive motherfuckers, cause God knows I deserve the retribution.

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Adaptive mimicry at it’s finest

However, if by some miraculous act of cognitive evolution, the survivors are smart enough to assemble together, formulate a hive mind, work a computer, read, operate Google or whatever search database used in arriving to this page, only to see this pointless confessional manifesto I’ve typed up right here…I’m really, really sorry about all of that. No hard feelings?

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