I see a small insect on me desk. Wandering, searching. Coming for my fruit gummies. I quietly take my shoe off to smash it. I hesitate, then slam down. The quiet buzzing tells me it got away. I look for wehere it lands. WHAP! It is gone. The insect is dead. I take a tissue out, grab it off the wall, and deposit it into a trash can.
Can’t live with ’em can’t live without ’em….Theirs is a tiny complex world almost invisible to me….existing just below the surface. So forgotten so important. We’d like to live without bugs but we would die without them.
You dissect the lining of my thoughts with superior fucked up ness… you decompose my justifications and you powder down my dispositions with a soft shrug and a hard hand crammed on piano keys for day, just trying to teach me something… or trying to impart a… simple song, I lost the lyrics to weeks ago…
A small bug walked the plank. He was scared as everyone laughed and called him the insect king. He knew that he was a true insect. But insects were only myths a legacy never told.
Its wings shone like jewels, black as onyx, green as emeralds, blue as sapphires. It flew in front of her face once, twice, and finally landed on her arm. She stared at it in wonder. It was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a long time.
My little friends, The rulers of the world. The successful society. You are so good.
Why do I use you as an insult. Only because of your size?…
I worship you and honor you, but stay out of my house, even though i built my house on top of your house. I will eat you, now that I know I can, thank you hungry people for showing me how to eat everything.
If an insect lands on your windshield, does it change the tilt of the world? Or is it just an inconvenience, easily taken care of by a push of a button, a swish of a wiper? Can it be both, so big and so small, at once?
And everything that had been bottled up until that moment came forth like the village flood last spring, when lukewarm water, full of dirt and dead flies, washed over houses and farms carelessly, recklessly. What Juli remembered the most about those few weeks was finding wet insect carcasses everywhere–in her coffeepot, on the spines of the books she managed to salvage from the wreck, in all of her clothes, even inside her mattress.
Juli stared at him, this insignificant boy. Suddenly his eyes began to grow; his arms appeared smaller, smaller, smaller; his head was huge, he was sprouting paper-thin wings.
The butterfly is something I wish to be. Even though it’s life is short and fleeting, I’d give anything for that kind of freedom. Do others feel the same way? I sometimes hope reincarnation is true. Then maybe I have a chance.
I want to crush you between my thumbs. When did you sink so low? When did all of this become such a game to you? It wasn’t a game to me, but I suppose that doesn’t matter. It never really has. I was just another fly caught in your web… or maybe it was the other way around. Truly, which one of us is the predator, and which of us the prey? I don’t think I can get away from you.
A fantastic creature flew by my window today. Effortless. Beautiful. So content with the world. Why can’t I be so content? Why must my life be a series of unmistakeable fuck-ups? Fly away, little insect. Don’t be disturbed by me, or anything else in the world, in fact. Just go with the breeze, ignore the fragile and hypocritical stages of what is called the human life.
suddenly, a thought hit her. andy had to know that the transport was arriving. but wasn’t that right before she had just reprogrammed him? andy was in cahoots with bogdan! that little insect!but how?
suddenly, a thought hit her. andy had to know that the transport was arriving. but wasn’t that right before she had just reprogrammed him? andy was in cahoots with bogdan! but how?
She sat at the end of a long gleaming table. A panel of executives sat at the other end looking at each other. Occasionally she caught a whisper from one executive to another. She felt like an insect hoping not to be squished.
It lifted its two front feet and rubbed them together with delight at the meal it was about to take part in. Excellent! The fly buzzed around the rotting carcass to find the most succulent place to dig in.
the shining green shell parted and filmy wings thin as wind unfolded, thinner than the sort of wind that snags at your fingers and whispers at the downy hair on the back of your neck. The antenna moved quietly, a shadow of a bug ballet.
I saw it on the ground first. Just sitting there. Sitting and waiting to be crushed. I put myself in its shoes..er, feet? Whatever they have. Not sure. It would suck to be an insect. I couldn’t bring myself to smush it, though, just end its life there. So I kept on walking, watching my step.
there was a giant cockroach/cricket backstage today. just walking past it made my heart race. i’m starting to think my fear of insects is branching out beyond spiders.
I don’t like insects.
They’re bugs.
Beetles.
Mosquitoes.
Yellow jackets.
Biting, humming, blood-sucking things.
I don’t like insects.
I do like pretty decorations, though.
Butterflies. Ladybirds.
Something beautiful, without purpose, less alien.
More…acceptable.
The same way humans seem to like others, more like themselves.
That’s how you make me feel, you arrogant jerk. Like a bug crawling across your bed, you watched me every night, waiting to crush me. The light in your eyes as you craved the CRUNCH of my walls. And I, the ugly one, only thought you loved me.
icky insects
grimy little goobers
heinously hideous
horrible and hated
the worst in the world
terrorizing teasers
the bully in the class
the awful mean teacher
a strict witchy grandma
a scary old neighbor
the worst type of tutor
your mom when you said you hate her
that’s the feeling of soul sickness
the kind that rots your emotion
it’s like a thousand little bug bites
and no calamine lotion
She placed her tiny finger against the colorful shell of the insect creeping along the arm of the chair and it stopped, frozen, paralyzed by the small girl’s curious touch. She released it suddenly and waved as it slid down into the sand, not to be seen again. “It’s on an adventure now,” I whispered to her worried eyes. “On his way to China.”
It crawls across her finger, legs tickling her skin. She watches it in wonder, and a little envy seeps into her heart. It lives a short, but remarkable life. And she’s lived a thousand years it seems, when he lived no longer than the beetle. She wishes someone would come along and crush her, too.
I’m an insect. That’s all I really am. I’m working so hard just to survive. It takes so much effort just to make it through one day. And no matter how much I’m trying, we all know my life span ends soon. I am going to die.
The world is a huge and mysterious place. There is so much beauty, mainly in little things. The big picture is foreign to me. I have accepted that I will never comprehend it. There is danger around every corner and on every street but I can not let that keep me from living. I am mighty in my small ways. One of millions, I make a difference.
-Insect
Maybe we should think more like them.
Insects are a study of the small. Small and numerous. So numerous that even though an insect may be very small, they could just as well overwhelm everything you see and know.
Luckily for Sharon, Owen was an entomologist, so insects were his specialty. He was able to revive her fairly quickly, which was good since the other guy was standing there with his mouth gaping open, and explain that the ant she had seen was, in fact, harmless. Huge, but harmless.
Must you make me feel so worthless?
So small and weak.
Must you make me feel like I am nothing?
So easy to step on.
Must you do this to me?
I have my flaws and so do you
but my must you comment on every little thing I do?
I’m not an insect so stop stepping on me like am one.
Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?
I see a small insect on me desk. Wandering, searching. Coming for my fruit gummies. I quietly take my shoe off to smash it. I hesitate, then slam down. The quiet buzzing tells me it got away. I look for wehere it lands. WHAP! It is gone. The insect is dead. I take a tissue out, grab it off the wall, and deposit it into a trash can.
innnsect.
wow!!
InnnSECT
yes. p- p-
ins-! ins–!!
–spect
innnsect
in-SPECT
in-SECT!!
*laughter*
oh gosh you’re right punkin, you’re inspecting the lady bug! what a clever boy!!
Can’t live with ’em can’t live without ’em….Theirs is a tiny complex world almost invisible to me….existing just below the surface. So forgotten so important. We’d like to live without bugs but we would die without them.
I insected a little into her brain, I wanted to know all of her thoughts. how they all came together, why were they the way they were?
You dissect the lining of my thoughts with superior fucked up ness… you decompose my justifications and you powder down my dispositions with a soft shrug and a hard hand crammed on piano keys for day, just trying to teach me something… or trying to impart a… simple song, I lost the lyrics to weeks ago…
A small bug walked the plank. He was scared as everyone laughed and called him the insect king. He knew that he was a true insect. But insects were only myths a legacy never told.
Its wings shone like jewels, black as onyx, green as emeralds, blue as sapphires. It flew in front of her face once, twice, and finally landed on her arm. She stared at it in wonder. It was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a long time.
My little friends, The rulers of the world. The successful society. You are so good.
Why do I use you as an insult. Only because of your size?…
I worship you and honor you, but stay out of my house, even though i built my house on top of your house. I will eat you, now that I know I can, thank you hungry people for showing me how to eat everything.
If an insect lands on your windshield, does it change the tilt of the world? Or is it just an inconvenience, easily taken care of by a push of a button, a swish of a wiper? Can it be both, so big and so small, at once?
Small…insignificant existence……soul?
And everything that had been bottled up until that moment came forth like the village flood last spring, when lukewarm water, full of dirt and dead flies, washed over houses and farms carelessly, recklessly. What Juli remembered the most about those few weeks was finding wet insect carcasses everywhere–in her coffeepot, on the spines of the books she managed to salvage from the wreck, in all of her clothes, even inside her mattress.
Juli stared at him, this insignificant boy. Suddenly his eyes began to grow; his arms appeared smaller, smaller, smaller; his head was huge, he was sprouting paper-thin wings.
Juli was disgusted.
The butterfly is something I wish to be. Even though it’s life is short and fleeting, I’d give anything for that kind of freedom. Do others feel the same way? I sometimes hope reincarnation is true. Then maybe I have a chance.
I want to crush you between my thumbs. When did you sink so low? When did all of this become such a game to you? It wasn’t a game to me, but I suppose that doesn’t matter. It never really has. I was just another fly caught in your web… or maybe it was the other way around. Truly, which one of us is the predator, and which of us the prey? I don’t think I can get away from you.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzzbuzz.
*Swat*
Dead bug.
That bug … was my father.
A fantastic creature flew by my window today. Effortless. Beautiful. So content with the world. Why can’t I be so content? Why must my life be a series of unmistakeable fuck-ups? Fly away, little insect. Don’t be disturbed by me, or anything else in the world, in fact. Just go with the breeze, ignore the fragile and hypocritical stages of what is called the human life.
suddenly, a thought hit her. andy had to know that the transport was arriving. but wasn’t that right before she had just reprogrammed him? andy was in cahoots with bogdan! that little insect!but how?
Lose a leg, we got another 5
suddenly, a thought hit her. andy had to know that the transport was arriving. but wasn’t that right before she had just reprogrammed him? andy was in cahoots with bogdan! but how?
She sat at the end of a long gleaming table. A panel of executives sat at the other end looking at each other. Occasionally she caught a whisper from one executive to another. She felt like an insect hoping not to be squished.
It lifted its two front feet and rubbed them together with delight at the meal it was about to take part in. Excellent! The fly buzzed around the rotting carcass to find the most succulent place to dig in.
the shining green shell parted and filmy wings thin as wind unfolded, thinner than the sort of wind that snags at your fingers and whispers at the downy hair on the back of your neck. The antenna moved quietly, a shadow of a bug ballet.
I saw it on the ground first. Just sitting there. Sitting and waiting to be crushed. I put myself in its shoes..er, feet? Whatever they have. Not sure. It would suck to be an insect. I couldn’t bring myself to smush it, though, just end its life there. So I kept on walking, watching my step.
Solo debía ser paciente. Un día lo aplastaría. Se pararía sobre él y de un solo golpe mortal lo mandaría al otro mundo. Un día.
the pollinators of the planet, bees are my favourite insect and my name in Hebrew means bee.
there was a giant cockroach/cricket backstage today. just walking past it made my heart race. i’m starting to think my fear of insects is branching out beyond spiders.
I don’t like insects.
They’re bugs.
Beetles.
Mosquitoes.
Yellow jackets.
Biting, humming, blood-sucking things.
I don’t like insects.
I do like pretty decorations, though.
Butterflies. Ladybirds.
Something beautiful, without purpose, less alien.
More…acceptable.
The same way humans seem to like others, more like themselves.
That’s how you make me feel, you arrogant jerk. Like a bug crawling across your bed, you watched me every night, waiting to crush me. The light in your eyes as you craved the CRUNCH of my walls. And I, the ugly one, only thought you loved me.
icky insects
grimy little goobers
heinously hideous
horrible and hated
the worst in the world
terrorizing teasers
the bully in the class
the awful mean teacher
a strict witchy grandma
a scary old neighbor
the worst type of tutor
your mom when you said you hate her
that’s the feeling of soul sickness
the kind that rots your emotion
it’s like a thousand little bug bites
and no calamine lotion
© L
like small crawling life, under the elephants feet. stampedes shaking in the direction of the wall covered in security. make it there and die.
She placed her tiny finger against the colorful shell of the insect creeping along the arm of the chair and it stopped, frozen, paralyzed by the small girl’s curious touch. She released it suddenly and waved as it slid down into the sand, not to be seen again. “It’s on an adventure now,” I whispered to her worried eyes. “On his way to China.”
It crawls across her finger, legs tickling her skin. She watches it in wonder, and a little envy seeps into her heart. It lives a short, but remarkable life. And she’s lived a thousand years it seems, when he lived no longer than the beetle. She wishes someone would come along and crush her, too.
I’m an insect. That’s all I really am. I’m working so hard just to survive. It takes so much effort just to make it through one day. And no matter how much I’m trying, we all know my life span ends soon. I am going to die.
Insects some mysterious creatures. They don’t really care what is around them, they’re just here. God placed them on earth for one reason or another.
The world is a huge and mysterious place. There is so much beauty, mainly in little things. The big picture is foreign to me. I have accepted that I will never comprehend it. There is danger around every corner and on every street but I can not let that keep me from living. I am mighty in my small ways. One of millions, I make a difference.
-Insect
Maybe we should think more like them.
Insects are a study of the small. Small and numerous. So numerous that even though an insect may be very small, they could just as well overwhelm everything you see and know.
Bugs. Bugs. Bugs.
Insects and bugs.
So small. So many.
Flying, crawling, all over.
So many.
So small.
Bugs and insects.
Bugs. Bugs. Bugs.
Buzz.
Luckily for Sharon, Owen was an entomologist, so insects were his specialty. He was able to revive her fairly quickly, which was good since the other guy was standing there with his mouth gaping open, and explain that the ant she had seen was, in fact, harmless. Huge, but harmless.
nibbly
nubbly
crawling across my shoe
icky
sticky
make me want to spew
crush it
leave it
what to do
run away
fast away
boo hoo hoo!
leggy, buzzing
in and around my ear
annoying
yet oddly beautiful
how is it that ugly is beauty?
Where does it go
Must you make me feel so worthless?
So small and weak.
Must you make me feel like I am nothing?
So easy to step on.
Must you do this to me?
I have my flaws and so do you
but my must you comment on every little thing I do?
I’m not an insect so stop stepping on me like am one.
Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?