There’s a wasp in my office. I know he’s going to die in here, so I feel sad about that. He whacks himself against the glass window in desperation and then takes little exhausted respites. I start feeling sorry for him, but then he gets agitated and I feel the urge to kill him because I’m afraid he’ll sting me in panic.
Welcome to my emotional roller coaster ride. I feel like this is some sort of metaphor for my life. *sigh*
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