Nov 26, 2023
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I forgot to take pictures until now, but look what my SO, my mom, and my sister pooled their money to get me for Christmas!
Needless to say I screamed.
Also the disk is out because I've been playing. I'm in the daycare and trying to play hide and seek with Sun. I love him to much.
I need it to be Wednesday because I wrote a thing and wanna share it since I haven’t really updated the main thing
im about to clean my drafts!!!!!!!!
I wrote this short story the other day and i really like the concept and some parts of the writing are also really really cool, so if you want to read it and tell me what you think that'd be nice
The Old Lady and the Ants
The old lady couldn’t see the ants without her glasses. They ran up the speckeldy-green side of the kitchen bench like a vine, headed for the toaster. There were always a lot of crumbs there. It was like this every morning; after the old lady buttered her toast and put milk and a cube of sugar in her tea, she carried them over to the small, round kitchen table, where she sat and looked out the window. She was lucky enough to have a window that looked over the garden, instead of facing into another apartment building. From the third floor, she could see the clothesline turning in the breeze, and began to plan her day. The ants were swarming at the toaster now, grabbing crumbs to take to their nest. Before they left, they took the bulk of the crumbs from the breadboard, as well; those who still had spare hands picked up renegades from the bench top. The old lady wiped the benches daily, but she couldn’t see very well, and her hands were weak. The ants did what they could.
One day, the old lady’s hands shook too much as she refilled the silver bowl with sugar cubes. It clattered on the tiles and sugar spilled everywhere. As she sighed, and prepared to lower herself to the floor, the ants abandoned the toaster and ran to help. Six legs got them there quickly, and the ants began to pick up the sugar cubes and carry them back to the bowl. The old lady would never be able to clean it all up herself, and it would bring huge, sneaky cockroaches. At such close range, the old lady saw them, and began swatting. More and more ants flooded down from the bench top, franticly trying to pick up all the sugar. Holding onto the bench, the old lady slowly eased herself up. She left, and came back with a can of bug spray. By this time, the ants were almost finished. The old lady bent down, leaving the can on the bench. It seemed like she could move more easily this time, and she stayed there for a long time, watching the ants work until they were finished. Then the old lady reached into the silver bowl, took out a sugar cube, and placed it in front of the biggest group of ants. They picked it up and left, and the old lady smiled.
After that, the routine of the old lady and the ants remained mostly the same, save for the fact that the old lady always left them a treat at the end of each day. It was an effort for her to bend down, but she always left it in the same place as she did the sugar cube. On the day it was a fresh, wet raspberry, the old lady fell quickly to the ground instead of bending.
Within days of dying, the old lady was covered in ants. Thickly, like fur, they’d worked themselves into all of her wrinkles and crevices. They even ate through her clothes, bit away at her beige stockings and crawled underneath, making her dead legs vibrate. The ants chewed at the birthmark on her hip, and the decades-old dog bite on her knee. Slowly and visibly, chunks of the old lady started to go. At one of her wrists the ants had worked to the bone, taking the skin and the muscles and the tendons in layers. Ants ran out from the old lady’s veins like blood, holding tiny pieces above their heads. Ants ran out as quick as ants ran in - 88 years of life is a lot to take apart. The old lady’s skin was soft and came away easily; it flaked and pulled itself off along the lines of her creases. Her eyelashes and hair were tedious but ants are meticulous, and sometimes they were lucky and skin and hair came as one.
The old lady’s bones took a long time. The tiny bits in elbows and toes could be carried off whole - floaty bones and joints, that had homes in cartilage - but femurs and fibulas had to be hacked down into manageable chunks by the strongest pincers. The ants took it all. The ants didn’t stop biting and taking until the old lady’s body, her clothes and her wedding ring, her fillings and the peach-coloured polish on her nails, were all gone. Underground, through the hole behind the fridge and down along the water pipes, in the backyard underneath the hills hoist, underground, the ants had hoarded every last bit. As each piece was taken from the old lady’s kitchen, it was moved to a large cavity inside the ants’ nest. The ants arranged their takings in stacks and piles and little sequences, always adding more and more and more and more, sticking it together with their saliva.
When the last piece of the old lady was brought through, a little slice of her lip, when it was processed and tidy, all the ants stopped moving. They had worked much harder than usual for a very long time. They had hardly eaten, and many had died of exhaustion or starvation in the process. The ants had stacked the bodies of the fallen along the walls of the chamber. In the middle of the chamber was the old lady, neatly mosaicked into one piece. She was dressed in the clothes she was wearing when she died. Every white hair was in place. Her eyes were closed and her hands rested on her abdomen. The ants were silent and still for a few moments. Eventually they began to file out into a little tunnel, slowly, one behind the other. The last one to leave turned and sealed the exit with dirt and saliva. In the dark, the old lady looked asleep.
im making the best backpack for school holy shit
Stardate 11.7.2012
But I saw the Warsaw philharmonic in concert this Sunday; they played a Beethoven concerto (with a freakish pianist) and a Tchaikovsky symphony, and I died from prolonged eargasm.
Hmm. Currently listening to some more Tchaikovsky (I didn't mean to, I was sending a link and one thing led to another and) and trolling through art blogs. I am such a godforsaken nerd but I just can't even care right now. Too good.
What else. No class until next Wednesday! Homecoming shenanigans are going down this weekend, but considering the leviathan that is Gator Band it could be worse. Plus, I'm peace-ing out back to Ocala after the game, so I get to see the new house. Weird.
And before that I've got the room to myself for so I can throw mad crazy parties and stuff. Anyway. C'est la vie.