I knew this kid who was allergic to wasps. And one time, we were in a coffeeshop and we saw a wasp on the window--a big red one. I thought he would, like, run or something, but he stared into the window, face reflected on the glass, and he said i want to kill something.
So he went after the wasp with a brown paper bag.
That's what I feel like this week. We see a threat that ignites our knowledge of weakness in ourselves, and we have to kill it. Trying to kill it blunt force trauma. And that dance brings it in close enough to kiss us, right? Makes it a monster when it was just a bug before.
The kid killed the wasp; I mean, I'm not saying it's a perfect metaphor. But the second you set your jaw like that, watch out, Bucky. you just put yourself on the same level as something venomous.
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