it came, i conquered.
i have a mortal fear of big bugs. i know, it's ridiculous getting frightened by bugs no bigger than a big toe when i am standing tall at 1.7 meters.
but what could i do? as long as a bug big enough for me to see his creepy disgusting stick legs appears within my sight, i get paralysed with fear as if i got stupefied. i back away in fear and cower in one corner to pray for it to go away. it got so bad at one point in time that i get all fidgety and freeze up (especially at night when creepy crawlies come alive) whenever i hear something that sounds like buzzing wings or a stupid bug hitting the light bulbs in my room.
but today, today was different.
my usual knight in shining armor (okay it's really just my mum with the kitchen slipper) was asleep and refused to get up no matter how much i beg, telling me to deal with my issues. i looked at my brother immersed in his own world of werewolves and skeletons and other medieval creatures and immediately disqualified him as of any assistance at all. tried looking for baygon, but alas, it seems that my family believed in doing it the traditional way and found this essential household survival tool a hassle and thus had thrown it away. with nothing else left, i had to resort to doing it the hard and dirty way.
The Cockroach was going crazy flying around in my room like it smoked marijuana or something but it finally settled down near my pile of books. grabbing my mum's trusty kitchen slipper and my file to protect myself from contact with that dirty creature, i stepped into the creature's stolen lair and confronted it. The Cockroach had flown down on to the floor and as if sensing danger approaching, started inching towards me slowly, then suddenly flew towards my face. i raised my file for protection and after fending off the attack, i charged forward. the slipper came down on the dark menace with a resounding "piak" and the battle was over. bug blood smeared all over the floor as its wings fluttered helplessly for the final time.
sweet, glorious victory.
i'm starting to understand why some people enjoy killing cockroaches. there is this indescribable feeling of satisfaction emerging from such acts of violence. you channel all your anger, frustrations and angst in your life into your hands, giving the weapon you hold-be it a slipper or broom or any other hard object- unspeakable power. then it goes WHACK and you start feeling better about life already. this process is amazingly therapeutic, i might even want a bug to fly randomly into my room once in a while for me to destress.
just kidding. i am still terrified of bugs despite action-packed battle i just had. i wish they never fly into my room again; like go disturb my brother or something. i haven't found something that he's actually scared of so it'd be interesting to see him freak out one day over a dragonfly or something.
okay shall sleep to celebrate my victory tonight. will disinfect the entire room of its disgusting germs sometime tomorrow.
but what could i do? as long as a bug big enough for me to see his creepy disgusting stick legs appears within my sight, i get paralysed with fear as if i got stupefied. i back away in fear and cower in one corner to pray for it to go away. it got so bad at one point in time that i get all fidgety and freeze up (especially at night when creepy crawlies come alive) whenever i hear something that sounds like buzzing wings or a stupid bug hitting the light bulbs in my room.
but today, today was different.
my usual knight in shining armor (okay it's really just my mum with the kitchen slipper) was asleep and refused to get up no matter how much i beg, telling me to deal with my issues. i looked at my brother immersed in his own world of werewolves and skeletons and other medieval creatures and immediately disqualified him as of any assistance at all. tried looking for baygon, but alas, it seems that my family believed in doing it the traditional way and found this essential household survival tool a hassle and thus had thrown it away. with nothing else left, i had to resort to doing it the hard and dirty way.
The Cockroach was going crazy flying around in my room like it smoked marijuana or something but it finally settled down near my pile of books. grabbing my mum's trusty kitchen slipper and my file to protect myself from contact with that dirty creature, i stepped into the creature's stolen lair and confronted it. The Cockroach had flown down on to the floor and as if sensing danger approaching, started inching towards me slowly, then suddenly flew towards my face. i raised my file for protection and after fending off the attack, i charged forward. the slipper came down on the dark menace with a resounding "piak" and the battle was over. bug blood smeared all over the floor as its wings fluttered helplessly for the final time.
sweet, glorious victory.
i'm starting to understand why some people enjoy killing cockroaches. there is this indescribable feeling of satisfaction emerging from such acts of violence. you channel all your anger, frustrations and angst in your life into your hands, giving the weapon you hold-be it a slipper or broom or any other hard object- unspeakable power. then it goes WHACK and you start feeling better about life already. this process is amazingly therapeutic, i might even want a bug to fly randomly into my room once in a while for me to destress.
just kidding. i am still terrified of bugs despite action-packed battle i just had. i wish they never fly into my room again; like go disturb my brother or something. i haven't found something that he's actually scared of so it'd be interesting to see him freak out one day over a dragonfly or something.
okay shall sleep to celebrate my victory tonight. will disinfect the entire room of its disgusting germs sometime tomorrow.