2011-04-24

The Little Ant with the Criminal Mind (11/20)


(11/20@11/20) The little ant was sometimes very aware of his body.  It didn’t fell good, it didn’t feel right, a lot of the time.  When he felt this way, klike his body wasn’t quite put together right, like he had aches and pains…(?)  course felt like he always felt like that, like, that was the normal way he felt like his exoskeleton was too tight, or sometimes like part of it was too loose.  He reasoned that he must be crazy because how could all ants possibly feel this way and still be able to build ant civilization?  Or even just he himself.  It felt like he always felt out of sorts, like his shell didn’t fit right but there must have been other times it must just be a trick of memory somehow.  But it drove him so crazy.  It was such an immediate discomfort so impossible to put out of one’s mind.   I feel better.  I no longer feel the need to simply lie on the floor in my sweats with my eys closed.  His feet.  The joints between his main body parts: his head, his thorax, all of his legs joining his thorax and his abdomen and all of the breath holes along each side of his abdomen.  The breath coming in, expanding, the plates of his abdomen spreading scrapingly apart and then sliding scrapingly back together.  He wished he could stop it, but he could not – the process had to go on.  His feet touching the earth underneath.  His antennae…how he longed some days to simply bite them both right off.  Instead he would find himself grooming them over and over and over again.  Bang one against the other, rub them together, anything that he could do to or with them hoping that finally there would be something that somehow knocked them back into place so that he would not have to feel them anymore.  He felt his body too much.  It was like it was on fire.  He had actually seen fire, and seen other ants thrown into it, how they writhed, after first running about wildly.  The evil playsome gods plucked up some of them on a branch – he was so small that perhaps that’s why they ignored him and only took his fellows, on branches, on bits of rotten wood that ants had dug tunnels all throughout.

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