my dad is killing moths again.

It depresses me to no end to watch him attempt to squash them between his hands. and it depresses me further when he is successful. I do not know how they keep getting into the house. I wish i could tell them the danger, that no matter how much they yearn to bath in that light it won't last long . . .

i have been trying to save them, ,whenevr i see one i attempt to heard it into another room, a rooom away from my father, i had 4 hiddne in my bedroom at one time. in an attempt to spare their small lives. I tried to cath one in a hat and throw it outside, but no matter how many times i see it, it always escapes back indoors. I whisper to them at times . . to run. I want them to flee and run away from me and my house, from their dying ground.

so many times i try to save moths, i feel so close to them. I understand their plight so much, they yearn for what will surely destroy them, but they feel it is worth it. I kno whow that feels, my God i know

I have grown rather irate with moth killers, i cannot lash out against my father but there have been times when i have defended moths, very well.

I would be with 'the boys' myself and my brother's group of friends, (although i learned much later that they were more my brother's friends than mine) we were geeks of course, i won't go into the embarassing details of the geekdom. THe most obsessively macho of them all and another would kill a moth whenever it got into the computer shop (my brother's very wll insulated computer shop actually) They would swat at them and actually lure them closer with thei lighters in an attempt to kill them. I screamed at them, ,nearly at the top of my lungs, i would take Pete's hat and try to catch the moth to set it free. and they would get angry at me, thinking i was some sort of psychotic bitch, and perhaps I am. All I know is that above all creatures i feel closest to the moth. and each time i see one killed, i feel a bit less alive.

My father is killing moths again. swatting at them over the kitchen table "not while we eat!" my mother scolds. as he hunts it down, like prey.

my fathers killing me again

the lesson of the moth

i was talking to a moth

the other evening

he was trying to break into

an electric light bulb

and fry himself on the wires

why do you fellows

pull this stunt i asked him

because it is the conventional

thing for moths or why

if that had been an uncovered

candle instead of an electric

light bulb you would

now be a small unsightly cinder

have you no sense

plenty of it he answered

but at times we get tired

of using it

we get bored with the routine

and crave beauty

and excitement

fire is beautiful

and we know that if we get

too close it will kill us

but what does that matter

it is better to be happy

for a moment

and be burned up with the beauty

than to live a long time

and be bored all the while

so we wad all our life up

into one little roll

that is what life is for

it is better to be part of beauty

for one instant and then cease to

exist than exist forever

and never be a part of beauty

our attitude toward life

is come easy go easy

we are like human beings

used to be before they became

too civilized to enjoy themselves

and before i could argue him

out of his philosophy

he went and immolated himself

on a patent cigar lighter

i do not agree with him

myself i would rather have

half the happiness and twice

the longevity

but at the same time i wish

there was something i wanted

as badly as he wanted to fry himself

archy

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there was a short entry before this, jsut hir your friendly neighborhood previous link below.