Little Spider

First published, one tweet at a time, earlier today.

There’s this tiny spider outside my window.

I’m on the third floor, so that’s, like 40 feet above ground?

The spider is maybe a millimeter tall. So that’s a huge height for it to have climbed.

I did the math, and that’s like if I found myself 14 miles high.

And there are still two stories for the spider to go.

Go on, little spider. You can do it. Nothing’s impossible.

Whatever you do, though, please don’t come into my room. I may be almost two thousand times as big as you, but you scare the heck out of me.

It’s mostly your confidence, I think. I wouldn’t even consider going this high. I’m a coward. You remind me of that.

You couldn’t possibly have any idea of what you would find up here. But that didn’t stop you.

You’re curious, but most of all you’re courageous. You explore the world, without fear, while I sit in my room, dreaming of the world.

I watch people do extraordinary things in movies and I say to myself, that’ll be me some day. But looking at you I know I’m trapped in here.

You left the comforts of your surroundings in search of adventure. Your brain has no way of ever comprehending what you’re even climbing up.

You’re the Neil Armstrong of spiders. The Columbus spider in search of a brave new world.

And what do I do? Talking to myself in public, waiting for the rain to stop so I can go out and buy junk food.

The rain’s not stopping you.

Nothing is stopping you, little spider.

Show me how you do it, little spider. Teach me!

Are you alone, too? Is that why you’re up here, looking for kindred spirits?

Or did you leave behind a family, using their love and strength to venture out and find a better place for them to live?

Even if it means maybe never seeing them again? Risking all for the slight chance of making things a tiny bit better for the ones you love?

Maybe, like me, you have lost someone. You know they are gone forever but still you can’t stop looking for them.

You go to these extremes, climb the highest mountains, because maybe it brings you closer to them, somehow.

Or maybe you do want to forget them. So you get away from all the things that remind you. All the ghosts of the past.

But you find that no matter how far you go, no matter how high you climb, you can’t escape.

The ghosts are part of you. You carry them around like bricks, weighing you down. The higher you get, the harder they pull on you.

Maybe that’s the real reason you started this journey. Because you knew it could only end one way.

Up here, the world you left behind is infinitely small. Whatever you knew to be your home you will never see again.

Up here it’s all glass and brightly painted stone. And the rain. Always the rain.

You don’t know how much farther up you can go. How many lifetimes it would take you to reach the top. If there even is one to reach.

But you’ve long stopped thinking about that. This is all you are now, all you’ll ever do. All you’ve ever done.

Gone is the grass.

Gone are the rocks.

Gone are the other spiders.

Gone are your friends.

Gone is your family.

Gone is your love.

Gone are the ghosts.

Gone is everything that made you you.

Gone is the pain.


Godspeed, little spider.


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