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flup!

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fan on the floor with two dead moths next to it

As I was sitting at my desk this morning, I heard a sudden FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP, which startled me. The sound stopped as quickly as it started. Puzzled, I walked over to the fan, just in time to see two moths flung from the insides of the fan.

How crappy that moment was: two moths, fluttering around each other, zoom this way, zoom that way, and hey, what is this neat air flow, BOOM, dead, bodies flung out of the blades.

I stood looking at them for longer than I should have, pondering what consciousness or awareness a moth may have, what this thing we call life is, and what connections my consciousness might have to these dying bodies. Of course, death and dying and the fraility of all of this has been weighing on my mind recently. Too much death in the last couple years, too much all this in the last couple days. Why does something have to die so that I can live?

The moment passed. The object that caused their deaths became the mechanism by which I removed them from my place, the whole thing making me not happy.

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