30th July, 2007
If you ever heard of elephant cemeteries - where the elephants go when they feel they are about to die - then you have a vague idea of how my room looks like. Yes, wasps come here to die, I am not making this up.
One day I found a dead wasp on the floor, before my window. I figured it tried hard to go past the glass. Then it died of exhaustion. The next day, I found another wasp beside the first one. Another day, another one. I currently count no less than five wasps lying dead before the bottom of my window. And if you think that's all, you're wrong.
This never happened before, and I have no idea why wasps are invading my room merely to die in my vicinity. I guess I am some sort of saint among the wasps. Imagine a wasp, about to die: "Oh, I feel something strange in my sting... I think I am not ok, I may be dying! To Nicolas' bedroom!" And BZZZZZZ it flies towards my room.
I remember that a fly just dropped dead right on my keyboard once. I was typing, and then this fly falls down on it after a short-lived flight. "Thank God I reached Nick before I kicked the bucket!" I don't know what it is with insects and me, but I notice that spiders also come here to die. Though, I must admit, this is a different kind of death, as I squish the fuckers on sight. I hate spiders. They make webs in every place they're at and that stuff comes out of their insectly anus and that alone disgusts me. Then they look like demons and they devour other insects. Fuck spiders.
My room must be haunted by dozens of dead insects by now. That's probably where the buzzing that keeps me from God comes from.