08 June, 2016

Small Thoughts on Tiny Friends

The other day, I wrote about a spider bro who had stumbled into our home, only to get thoroughly deaded by a crazed man wielding a napkin. (Making Tiny Friends... Then Killing Them.)

It's been a few days, and I've had time to reflect upon my actions, and the request of Brittney to squish the ever loving snot out of that little arachnid, however, I can't help but feel... Odd.

My mind keeps imagining me, happy, relaxed, waiting to catch a bite to eat, when the universe as I know it begins to spiral inward to the ever growing blackness that is, death by giant. It is something I can't really comprehend. I can only equate it to getting an airplane, or a helicopter dropped on my head, which, even in those terms, is hard to consider. Not to mention, it spooks the hell out of me.

Regardless to say, I don't plan on dropping the hammer on any helpless critters anytime soon, and hopefully, I won't have to even decline the proposition. It's just not something that I'd care to do.