I envy the spider

Sometimes I envy the spider. Arachnidia Deathicus. Crawling steadily across uncertain terrain, with one mission in mind – make the web, catch the food, eat the food, reproduce, repeat. The tact and care of the web is what really catches my eye. I’ve observed webs that have been arranged with such purposeful precision it astonishes me, the bi-pedal creature existing most typically on the horizontal playing field. The web, placed perfectly catty-corner to a light source as to bottle neck its prey which are ridiculously attracted to luminescent objects. You’d think that air-borne insects would have learned by now, that spiders kick it by lights, and there’s usually a web there, and that’s where you usually die.

Even though I spend long strides of time thinking on the amazement I have with spiders battle tactics – this is not what amazes me currently. Currently, I am amazed with mental solitude of a spiders persona. The inborn strength spiders must have in order to deal with their shit being consistently ruined is uncanny. If every time I built an awesome Lego castle, some asshole came over and punted it into oblivion, I would undoubtably have veins comprised of roaring rapids saturated in cortisol.

The web, aside from its 8 legs, defines the spider. You see a web, you think spider. What you don’t typically see, is what the spider does after its glorious piece of art that took hours to build is taken down. The spider does not sit in a corner for hours, sulking in every shade of melancholy imaginable. The spider does not watch 4 episodes of House in a row because that’s the spiders way of unproductively coping with its issues. THE SPIDER does not go home and write, “dear diary, johnny jogger jogged aimlessly tore through my web today, and now its like, all GONE!! Gone! How will I ever live life without that perfect web I spent, like, 2 whole days on!” No. The spider does not waste one fluid ounce of its precious time contemplating its loss. The spider crawls back up the wall, smokes a cigarette, and begins building again.

Everything is always changing, that is one thing I am certain of. Sooner or later, your web will be taken down, or you will have to abandon it. Loss is inevitable. I am going to soon leave my web here. It is intricate and complex, I know every back road and short cut, and my little spider friends are conveniently placed about. I’ve grown accustom to this web, and leaving it is kind of like my Lego castle. You might say, “but Jackson, warren Wilson.. I mean, your web, will always be there for you to return to.” And I reply, but Warren Wilson is much like an actual web, once you’ve left, you can’t return to that same ol’ wawaweewa you’ve always known. The web changes, deteriorates, and is rebuilt in another fashion.

Thus, I envy the spider. My endless endeavor to be more like it begins - although I doubt ill ever be able to produce silk strands out my bu'hole, a guy can dream though. Yeah, I’ll leave this web soon, but will rebuild another elsewhere – and maybe even return to this one, admire its glory for a short while, possibly spin a wee web in a corner somewhere so I can 'summer' there.

-Jackson