On Bugs

I am ambivalent about bugs.

I don't take them outside to save a precious life. When someone asks me to get rid of a spider, I squash it quickly and move on with my life. No fear: I've become the default but killer with many of my friends. But I don't kill them with fury, either. The spiders I find in my room or the bathroom just keep living. I don't bother them, I don't fear them, and they, too, leave me alone. I've been bitten by spiders before, but it doesn't really hurt so bad. Just an unfortunate consequence of co-existence, I suppose.

Bugs can be pretty cool. When I find an especially interesting one, I might examine it and stare at it for a bit. But I don't gasp with joy at the possibility of seeing such a creature: the great beetle who's latin name is Bugister Coolisco! Nothing of that sort.

Just little bugs in large amounts freak me out a little, but I've even gotten over my once awful fear of ants. I just walk away. No fuss. No problem.

I just wander why I feel the need to write a blog post about something I'm so ambivalent about.