Log 135 ~It Bugs Me, Will

Last week it was ants or the lack thereof and this week, butterflies, ants, and roaches oh my but I’m not talking about the actual creatures for they all exist in man, at least if you watch some weird cooking shows. “It Bugs Me, Will.”

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

Log 135 ~It Bugs Me, Will

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I don’t think much of people. If I was being honest with myself and joined the ranks of the one percent, what would I do? I help NaNoWriMo and animals. Inspector Echo, is it a sin I still owe Indiana Gone, Birthday and Wedding Gifts?

Butterflies, not the first bug you thought I would mention today. I wasn’t thinking about them myself, but now I’m feeling them. Have I ever told you that Red and Black are my battle standard? Today though, I want to burst into that song Amber. No, I should mention the last time I spoke about butterflies or a particular Pokémon to a girl, the “Rainbow?” I would do well to remember since this would cause even more trouble. Wasn’t I so “optimistic” today, though, and I do not need to be in any sense? Shouldn’t I play Chris Pratt’s part in Passengers? Only I’ll do the right thing and leave her alone. I wasn’t lying to her, though; I like how my name sounds on her lips. Cherry would have a time with this, given her particular romantic interests always.

Ants would take my mind off things, but am I trying to curse myself, happy thoughts. It’s FEAR though Inspector Echo, my anxiety and worry. I’m always on guard, and that explains why I’m holed up in bed today. How about being in bed for a different reason, and it’s no good. I’m feeling pretty “antsy,” and I’m not sure why. Well, no, I know exactly why, but so far, I can still post this if I stay on the up and up. These words like one big ant colony, and I’m trying not to bug anybody else, life goals.

Roaches can survive anything or so “THEY,” say. My day job, for example, I endure humiliation, exhaustion, and I play dead. Some pretty girl sees me, and I go scurrying all over the place. I don’t want to imagine myself as a nuisance, but isn’t that always the case. Dennis The Menace, Bran the Broken, Will the Ill, etc. Why doesn’t “Okay” talk to me anymore? When I speak to Indiana Gone, I only bring bad news. Why do I chat up some pretty girl despite everything she has going?

I’m sorry for this RAID Inspector. To be a raven, Nevermore, It Bugs Me, Will.

I Will Have No Fear

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