I write about bugs

For as long as I can remember I’ve held a secret anger towards bugs. It’s never easy when fear stares you in the eyes, in this case, beady little eyes that you can barely see, but know it’s there. It’s not the eyes that bother me, it’s what they represent.
It’s such a humbling experience when a fairly sensible, brave, noble, peace-loving, earnest vogon, has to flee when confronted by the menacing presence of what I’d like to call fugly little-flying ipises.

The symptoms of fear: first you freeze from head to toe, rapid breathing ensues, then the desire to shriek on top of your lungs, coupled with the inability to communicate sound under human frequency/ vogon screams fall on deaf ears. Then your heart drops in the pit of your stomach, culminating with the queasy feeling that your body’s about to turn into fuuuujello. At this point I am completely enshrouded in fear.

I die.