MIND BLOWN: AN ODD TAKE ON COBWEBS
I’m strangely proud of them, seeing them as a novelty as opposed to a sign of neglect. There’s pride in ownership as though I’ve earned it somehow. X amount of days spent living on this splendid planet with its not always quite as splendid residents equals a cobweb earned. One’s presence means I’ve had a home- a wall, ceiling or doorway, a darkened high up and away corner for it to accumulate in. In cleaning ceiling to floor, I’ve passed over them the few times I’ve encountered one. No such badge of honor to bunnies of dust, mind you. Regretfully, I’ve no image for accompaniment, just lying in bed and enjoying my ceiling before the inevitable zonk out. A post hardly qualifying as audio or visual, you’ll just have to pretend, I suppose. You know how to pretend, don’t you? Just put your mind together and-