Confessions of a subpar minimalist
I’m sitting here in my 4x4 apartment. I've lived in the small bit of escape (that i endearingly refer to as my cave) for 7 years. the space is pretty small but the things that I own are small as well. Within the last week i hate to admit, but i have become something of a Assassin of flies. You join me in this hunt currently in progress. As i sit here i glance around the room looking for the little suckers that dare to enter my sacred space. (The little shits are sneaky) For the last two hours i have sprayed them with alcohol, smacked them with a wet towel (you get more “woosh” that way). I think i located their nest two hours ago. I emptied half a bottle of 70% alcohol into it then washed it out. Im not proud, and secretly i feel awful about killing any life, but the only thing that their helping degrade right now is my sanity. I’m praying that I got them all. I just NEEDED to type this out.
