I yell while inhaling deeply off the pickling jar. Unfortunately, as a result of my studies, I ve developed a bit of an affinity for ether. I inhale until I feel my lungs so lid with gas, until I feel an icy Slurpee headache filling my temples, and jump through the doorway after the leaping cannibalistic grey splotch springing like a well worn hacky sack down my hall. Because I cannot sleep unless I am surrounded by insects. And yet, the individua l specimen is of the least importance.
Mankind is studied primarily in terms of deviation from an abstract nonexistent standard.
The whole species benefits as a result. And I also can t see in my dark living room. I slap my hand against the wall until I feel a switch. Each strobe image of fluorescent flickering to life chronicles the movement of the grasshopper towards the kitchen. I want to tell him that he s trapped once he s in there, but I know then he ll never go into the kitchen.