Does anyone else feel horribly guilty about killing bugs? And I don’t mean accidental bug killings. I saw a bug in my kitchen sink and, instead of rescuing it like I usually do, I let it swirl down the drain to its watery death. Now I feel bad about this bug murder I’ve committed. I’m haunted by the idea that he’s hanging on to a piece of potato in the drain, terrified of his impending doom. Like Leonardo DiCaprio in “Titanic” only without the negativity of Kate Winslet to keep him alive and hyper-focused. I don’t feel good about this. I wish there was a way I could send something to its family.
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