Monday, September 2, 2013

Spider Woman

I spent over two hours talking to a friend in their car as they were dropping me home last night. About stuff. We're helping each other through some pretty messed up shit, shit we wouldn't wish on our worst enemies, let alone people we care about, so I'm not about to go into specifics, here, except that of something I observed during our conversation.

As I've said before, I don't dig spiders. Well, last time this friend dropped me off, there were two huge ones on opposite corners of the window in which the car was parked and facing. So no way  to avoid passing at least one of them, even if I went around the back of the car. This had me freaked out, to the point where I turned my body away from the windshield while talking to this friend in order to not see them. The friend noticed, so I explained, and when I eventually got out, they did likewise and (slightly seriously) formed a barricade with their body between myself and the arachnids.

So this time, when we pulled up, my friend was the first to say, "I see no spiders," again, slightly seriously.

"I was looking, too," I admitted.

So then we started talking, and I looked over to the doorway into my building, and holyshit. Three spiders right there, one of which was in the process of weaving its web. Then I looked over at the patio to the right, and SHIT, two more on the right side, one right near the banister, the other about 2/3 to the ceiling.


So I tried to look at my friend as we talked, but gradually I lost control and couldn't help but stare from spider to spider. I grew goosebumps, despite it being hot in the car (summer, you know), I got shivers a few times (my friend didn't notice, thank goodness). I was not looking forward to getting inside. It became almost four in the morning, but there was a small portion of me that sincerely didn't want to get out of that car because it would mean passing those spiders.

I know, I'm fucked up.

But after a while, I noticed a moth darting up against the glass on the the door to my building, the glass in which, in one spot, the spider weaving its web had situated itself. I kept wondering if it was going to fly into one of the webs, and it seemed to have a few near misses, but it always scraped by. It  even made one of the spiders scramble to that portion of the web, but apparently this moth was pretty damn good at its own evasive tactics and self defense. And this moth  was at it for over an hour of the time I was in this friend's car. 

Then after a big hug from my friend, I looked again (because I had to, it was compulsive).

"Whoa," I said, "looks like one of them has caught something."

My friend said, "Hm, you're right, I wonder what that is. Oh, and now it's time for dinner."

"That's nature," I said as the spider started to attack. My friend  made a half-hearted chuckle, unable to hide their discomfort.

So then we both remained silent as the spider that had been spinning the web earlier went after its prize- a rather  large something that started to struggle. In the light of the bulbs inside, I could see the shimmer of wings- the spider had caught a dragonfly with a body a good 3/4 larger than its own (so this was a huge fucking dragonfly). The spider tapped the dragon fly a few times, but  just  with its legs, as the dragonfly thrashed and fought and struggled not to get bitten.

"Oh," my friend  commented, "it fell."

"Yeah," I said, "but it's probably covered in goop, and it'll just die anyway."

"Yeah, it looks like the spider's having to fix its web," my friend said as the spider started re-spinning.

We finished our conversation, had another hug, and I stepped out and hesitated at the door. I looked up at the spider in the window, over to my left at the moth flitting near another web, and down at the dragonfly on the ground.

And for a moment, I felt like the dragonfly. I couldn't tell if  it  was dead or not, and I was too freaked out by the huge spider over my head to check it. But I felt like what I had witnessed it do was like me, or that I was like it. Like  all of my fighting and struggling  doesn't matter- in the end, there's no hope, nothing left, and I'm trapped, wrapped up in the mess I created, and no one is there to save me. I fall, and I can't get up, and my place and purpose is of no consequence. And  even if someone could make it better, they don't, because they're too selfish  or scared.  The thing I couldn't accept, though, was that the dragonfly was as good as dead- it had absolutely no hope. 

And then I remembered that little moth as I went up the stairs. Sure, it may not have been making the best life decisions, but it always got out. I thought maybe  I was like the moth for a moment, but then realized, no. Because the trouble I've been in throughout my life, the vast majority  of it has been things over which I had absolutely no control whatsoever. Sure, there are some times where I've put my heart on the line and had it crushed, but I think getting your heart broken because someone doesn't feel the same as you or because you didn't get selected for whatever thing you applied for or something is way different from getting caught doing something like breaking the law or injuring yourself doing some ridiculously dangerous stunt. And for the love of Pete, that moth was eventually going to get caught by a web, or burned in a lamp or something. I had no hopes for that moth- it was going to meet a pretty bad demise, and I wouldn't really call it "untimely," unless it was meant in the "surprisingly delayed" sense. It'll eventually self destruct.

And then, oddly enough, I thought of the spider after getting inside. The spider that was just doing what it was doing, and when what it thought was an opportunity came across, did everything it could to get what it wanted. The spider that when its home/life was literally torn up, it literally started weaving it back into place without really losing much time. Sure, the web would never be the same again, but that doesn't mean the spider wouldn't do its best with what it had. And it would try again, once the web  was repaired and another opportunity presented itself. The spider would keep going. It would move on, but it would keep trying. 


I'm a spider?

I've faced a lot of hardship. I've watched my hopes get dropped, been dropped myself plenty of times. I've thought I could take a chance more than once and get something great out of it, but I've faced disappointment more times than is "fair." I've rebuilt every time, though. And I don't know if I'm stronger for it, but I know I'm better for it.

Batman took on the form of something that frightened him in order to instill fear in the hearts of those he was against. So does that  make me Spider Woman?

It was WAAAY too difficult to find a picture
of her that didn't have her looking like
she was either having or trying to have sex. And
this one is a bit booby for my tastes. Ugh.
I uh, don't plan on swinging around in a spider costume any time soon. And honestly? I don't think  this  will change my opinion of spiders all that much, if at all. But I like to think I'm tough like  a superhero, resilient. I re-spin my web, meaning I rebuild whatever is left of myself and  my life every time something bad happens. And I go on and keep doing my best to be a good person, to do good things, be good to others, and I don't give up, damnit.

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