WaspsWhen you kill wasps, they freeze in place. It seems a pity to do that to their long lithe bodies, to make them as static as I am. But they are so heedless, what else can you do? The world has so much in it you cannot reason with. Sometimes I wonder whether I am just not sane because I want the world to be.
You know, we have massive ingenuity. When it comes to finding ways to hurt each other, to kill or maim, we are extremely capable. But we did not ever find a way to communicate with wasps, to say to them that we would not hurt you if you simply lived your lives away from us.
Wasps are built so that the thing they have for protecting themselves and their family is the thing that brings their demise. We would not hate wasps if they had no sting.
I feel guilty for neglecting the children. Some of the time it feels like I have forgotten how to love anyone. I feel like I have numbed myself.
But other times I am ferociously stinging myself and I've forgotten what I was protecting myself from, or whether I was just in a fury, punishing myself, and what for, really?
What else can you do but spin around in circles when all you want is someone to love but you are no good at loving anyone at all?
Wanting to is not enough, obviously.
So, sometimes I think, you have the chance. You could cut yourself loose of it, shed your casing. But I don't know how. What wasp ever lost his sting?
I wanted to be able to bathe in being wanted for a while, and feel the muddy accretion slide away. I know it doesn't work like that but sometimes you suspend disbelief, have faith and miracles happen.
Or not. I froze the wasps to their nest and I could hear a howling wind. I knew it was my soul, hurting for what I've done. Or haven't done.