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Daily Deviation
October 29, 2015
My Spider Wears a Tinfoil Hat by Naktarra is a funny, totally relatable, and very very possible explanation of what spiders do when you are foolish enough to ignore them.
Featured by TheMaidenInBlack
Literature Text
Murder is wrong. Murder is usually, most entirely and for the most part extremely bad when it comes down to it. Shockingly enough, people thought murder was so wrong that they made laws about it. You can't murder people is what they say and they say that you can't harm animals either. That doesn't stop one from killing alien species.
The alien in question was tall, black and had eight legs. Eight long, entirely gross and disgusting legs that scurried away into dark corners with its equally—if not more-so—ugly eyes. Spiders sucked and that is really the point of it all.
There are a lot of options on what one can do when they spot one of these alien creatures. Scream is always the first option whether one likes it or not. The louder and higher the scream depends on where one happens to find the spider. If it's on the floor about fifty or so feet away, a quick “ah” is sufficient. However, if you find the spider creeping up your leg to say its greetings, a scream that will make your neighbours call the police is accepted.
You can hit the spider with a rolled up newspaper, you can step on the spider, you can set the spider on fire, you can point a gun at the spider—depending on what country you're from—and you could just entirely ignore the spider. However, ignoring is the worse thing to do because every time you see one in the time frame of the next twenty years, you'll wonder if it is in fact the same one.
Personally, putting a cup over the spider and sliding a piece of paper under it is the best option. Then, you can gently move it outside so it can think about what it has done while it rots away on your porch in the snow. Then, you can laugh at its little rolled up spider corpse just loud enough for all the other spiders to hear what you have done.
The worst type of spider one can find in one's house is the type of spider which tries to reverse its roll with you. Instead of you thinking it looks rather monster-like, it thinks you just happen to be a monster. Watch out for these spiders as they stare at you awkwardly while you're on the toilet before taking notes on everything about you.
If you try to take action against this spider, it will make four signs of the cross and roll away promptly under your bed. What you have to do is know when to sneak up on these spiders. Sometimes it takes a good long wait before they venture into the world again. You see, spiders are just as scared of you as you are scared of spiders. Spiders are horribly afraid of you. So much so they sometimes hang themselves just at the sight off another human being.
If you start seeing small “Area 51” banners around your house, you have waited too long. The spider has grown up, graduated, started a company and now has its own NASA corporation under your own bed. If you see one of the black pests scurrying down your wall, it's not the same one from before. You have in fact ignored your spider for so long that it hires other spiders to do its dirty work. Right now the original is sitting in its big, fancy spider building surrounded by spider alcohol with all illegally prostituted spider women.
From here, keep on waiting. Soon you will be witness to the beauty of revolution. The spiders will want less taxes, more freedom and democracy. You will stop seeing them on the walls and instead find little picket lines blocking you from your bathroom door. If you're lucky, you will see the execution of the original spider in a tiny, tiny little guillotine. You're allowed to cry—don't hold back your tears.
For the original's followers, you will see a small burial taking place. All the spiders wont dress in black as they already are in black and they don't wear clothing. You could unpleasantly put your foot in one of your socks one day to find a tiny, tiny little spider coffin. You're allowed to mourn again—don't hold back your tears. You did just destroy a grave after all. Like murder, that's probably against the law too.
The point of it was, murder was wrong. Your body has been in witness to a greater race. A much more terrifying “Plant of the Apes” right in your house and you were just on the rafters the whole time because of how horribly scared of spiders you are. See here, the perfect lesson that demonstrates a common pattern in revolution and there you are, like a door knob.
Now all the spiders are going to crawl all over you and through your nose. When you're found, there are going to be oceans of spiders everywhere. It will be terrible and everyone will be more concerned about all the millions of spiders rather than the you being dead thing.
There are a lot of options on what one can do when they spot one of these alien creatures. Scream is always the first option whether one likes it or not. The louder and higher the scream depends on where one happens to find the spider. If it's on the floor about fifty or so feet away, a quick “ah” is sufficient. However, if you find the spider creeping up your leg to say its greetings, a scream that will make your neighbours call the police is accepted.
You can hit the spider with a rolled up newspaper, you can step on the spider, you can set the spider on fire, you can point a gun at the spider—depending on what country you're from—and you could just entirely ignore the spider. However, ignoring is the worse thing to do because every time you see one in the time frame of the next twenty years, you'll wonder if it is in fact the same one.
Personally, putting a cup over the spider and sliding a piece of paper under it is the best option. Then, you can gently move it outside so it can think about what it has done while it rots away on your porch in the snow. Then, you can laugh at its little rolled up spider corpse just loud enough for all the other spiders to hear what you have done.
The worst type of spider one can find in one's house is the type of spider which tries to reverse its roll with you. Instead of you thinking it looks rather monster-like, it thinks you just happen to be a monster. Watch out for these spiders as they stare at you awkwardly while you're on the toilet before taking notes on everything about you.
If you try to take action against this spider, it will make four signs of the cross and roll away promptly under your bed. What you have to do is know when to sneak up on these spiders. Sometimes it takes a good long wait before they venture into the world again. You see, spiders are just as scared of you as you are scared of spiders. Spiders are horribly afraid of you. So much so they sometimes hang themselves just at the sight off another human being.
If you start seeing small “Area 51” banners around your house, you have waited too long. The spider has grown up, graduated, started a company and now has its own NASA corporation under your own bed. If you see one of the black pests scurrying down your wall, it's not the same one from before. You have in fact ignored your spider for so long that it hires other spiders to do its dirty work. Right now the original is sitting in its big, fancy spider building surrounded by spider alcohol with all illegally prostituted spider women.
From here, keep on waiting. Soon you will be witness to the beauty of revolution. The spiders will want less taxes, more freedom and democracy. You will stop seeing them on the walls and instead find little picket lines blocking you from your bathroom door. If you're lucky, you will see the execution of the original spider in a tiny, tiny little guillotine. You're allowed to cry—don't hold back your tears.
For the original's followers, you will see a small burial taking place. All the spiders wont dress in black as they already are in black and they don't wear clothing. You could unpleasantly put your foot in one of your socks one day to find a tiny, tiny little spider coffin. You're allowed to mourn again—don't hold back your tears. You did just destroy a grave after all. Like murder, that's probably against the law too.
The point of it was, murder was wrong. Your body has been in witness to a greater race. A much more terrifying “Plant of the Apes” right in your house and you were just on the rafters the whole time because of how horribly scared of spiders you are. See here, the perfect lesson that demonstrates a common pattern in revolution and there you are, like a door knob.
Now all the spiders are going to crawl all over you and through your nose. When you're found, there are going to be oceans of spiders everywhere. It will be terrible and everyone will be more concerned about all the millions of spiders rather than the you being dead thing.
Flash Fiction Month 2014 -- July 12th, 2014.
Literature
This is Irony
I count the passing of days in ashtray soldiers,
and stillness in the words of dead poets.
We write our secrets on the inside of our lungs
and hide truths on the inside of our stanzas,
because it’s acceptable to wear hatred on your arms,
but vulnerability is a mark of weakness.
I have choked down everything: pain and shame and arsenic tranquility,
to spew forth such paltry words and call it poetry.
A waltz away from thirty eight caliber oblivion
we press back, back
because death isn’t as romantic as we hoped,
and poison is quieter than a gunshot.
Literature
Writer
I am a scientist;
Pinning down ideas
like butterflies
preserving them in
their fragile beauty
as I take away their freedom,
their life.
I am a parasite;
sucking the soul out
of music and leaving it
a hollow shell
that plays like
the noisy silence in
my ears.
I am a thief;
taking what is not mine,
the world around me,
and pouring it into
a mould that
I claim is
my own.
I am a blasphemer;
playing God in a
sacred place, changing
the world to my
liking when the orchestra
is not under my
conduction.
I am a liar;
selling false havens
to lonely runaways,
giving them a glimpse
of a world more glamorous,
more fantas
Literature
Donnie's Decision
“Hey Floater!”
The shout tore across Zeeko's awareness. His lanky frame sloshed about in the gelatinous pool that had once been his home.
So many straight lines. So many edges.
Donnie stood over him.
"Floaters aren't allowed down here, so why don'tcha go back where you came from?"
Zeeko shivered in the cold morning air. The blue glow under the skin of his chest darkened slightly. He rolled his head towards Donnie, winced at the bright orange sun. He wanted to block it out with his hand, but could barely raise either arm in the gravity of this world.
"Can you hear me, freak?"
Soft pulses of air pressed against Zeeko's skin.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Word count: 861
Goal: 5/12
Goal: 2/8
1. Something About Coffee
2. The Trouble With Meese
3. My Holiday's Heist
4. Warm Laundry
5. My Spider Wears a Tinfoil Hat
6. There's a Spider in my Anyways
7. Cannibalism Needs Thought
Goal: 5/12
Goal: 2/8
1. Something About Coffee
2. The Trouble With Meese
3. My Holiday's Heist
4. Warm Laundry
5. My Spider Wears a Tinfoil Hat
6. There's a Spider in my Anyways
7. Cannibalism Needs Thought
Comments75
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This is a classic "What the hell did I just read?" story, and I absolutely love it! I wish there was more stuff like this on DA! 