My murder confession

            This afternoon an itty-bitty spider crawled near me and I crushed it with my shoe. Upon reflection, I feel really bad about this senseless act of violence. Why can’t I accomplish a state of Zen and higher thinking that supersedes my need to crush life out of fear? I don’t want fear to control me. I wish I could sleep with my limbs dangling over the side of my bed without an irrational fear of monsters.

            However, I can’t. Reason only goes so far. Spiders are much scarier than monsters, and a lot more documentation exists proving their existence. They’re actually quite helpful. They eat lots of harmful bugs, produce useful silk, and do some creepy and yet bad ass tasks like bring other bugs back to life and produce emeralds (at least that’s what the internet tells me). So why can’t I like them? I’ve tried. Really.

            I’ve even let tarantulas crawl on me in an effort to conquer my fear. It mostly resulted in a lot of shaking and near panicked giggling. The spiders being good have very little impact on my feelings toward them. Even if the monsters that come out in night are like those from Monster’s Inc. I still don’t want them in my room. Spiders are so much worse. Mostly because they’ve got too many legs. What the heck do you do with that many legs? Eww I just pictured a spider karma sutra. Gross. Anyways, the fear runs too deep. I’m a wimp. Not a completely hopeless one, but a wimp all the same. Like Ron Weasley, I’d probably follow the spiders if necessary to help save a friend, but I certainly wouldn’t like it. A lot of whining would ensue.  

            The spider I crushed probably just wanted a tan. It was a lovely day. Maybe she has darling children and is an upstanding member of society. Or she might be wanted for spider treason because she overthrew an evil spider tyrant. Or she could’ve been an evil spider tyrant. I don’t know. Whatever she was I ended her future potential because of my silly fear. Which is sad. What if she was going to someday become genetically mutated, bite a human and produce Spider-man? I love Spider-man. I really don’t want to be responsible for his lack of existence. However, I don’t have a time machine so the best I can do is strive for amends.

            I’m sorry. I’m so sorry dear spider. In the future I’ll endeavor to simply move spiders out of my immediate vicinity. Live and let live will be my new spider motto. Your death will save future generations of spiders. I hope that’s a small consolation. Our brief encounter has taught me a greater respect for life. All life. I don’t care about a beings species, sexual orientation, gender, race, number of appendages, hair color, amount of tattoos, or cultural upbringing. I can’t promise to like you, but I promise not to smash you with the bottom of my shoe. Hopefully, that’s progress.

Best of luck,


P.S. The creepy spider image is from here.



2 thoughts on “My murder confession

  1. You should forgive yourself for your arachnidicide, but go and sin no more from now on.
    “Creepy” looks cute with all that spider facial hair and his six soft brown eyes!
    Thanks for following my blog! 🙂

    • Thanks for the advice. I saved a frog in the middle of the road the other day so hopefully my karma has been balanced out. and you’re welcome, I enjoy your writing!

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