horrible things

I did a horrible thing. I killed an ant in my bathroom. With hairspray. Spraying it on the creature. I regretted it almost immediately and scooped it up on my thumbnail and tried to wash it off with water, but of course it died anyway. Now I feel just awful.

There are a handful of people who think I do horrible things all the time, although they would consider this instance to be inconsequential compared to what I have done in the past. To them. To them, I have done horrible things.

The difference, to me, is that those were necessary. This was not. The difference is I regretted this.

I feel awful, sick to my stomach and stupid. Just like I always do, when I do horrible things. All the same, I am not a horrible person, merely a regular person who sometimes does horrible things.

And isn’t that worse?

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I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.