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Tiny craftsmen of the lowliest of materials which, when rolled by their legs, is turned into a potent fuel for life; into the first scaled-down worlds they have to burst through before setting foot into the greater sphere we all walk on. The ball is womb, home, food and purpose, a life's work lovingly polished even after the larvae start growing inside, lest moss gather on the smooth surface and hinder the children's growth. Such is the virtuosity with which the dung beetle makes life that the ancient Egyptians had to bestow upon them the domain of Dawn, explaining the advance of the Sun through the heavens as the rolling work of the beetle-god Khepri, granting the light and warmth of our existence the beauty only a work of divine art can have.
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May 13, 2024

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Every beetle has its battle, folks
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- Beetles cannot see very well, so they communicate using pheromones, sounds or vibrations. - Some beetles are not considered pests - Beetles have special mandibulate mouthparts, which can be used to chew anything from plants to other insects, and even dead mammals. In fact, the word ‟beetle” is thought to come from bitela, which is Old English for little biter - Thick, hardened front wings, called elytra, cover most of the beetle's body and its back wings offer great protection. Some are able to trap moisture under their wings, helping them survive in deserts where water is scarce. Others can live underwater because they are able to trap air under the elytra
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Underwear, soap, sunblock, sheets; if you're putting up a barrier between the physical you and the oh-so-hazardous world then, if possible, have it be the most effective barrier it can be.
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Receiving is giving too. Also, there's quite a high chance you deserve to be complimented.
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Why do they hide so much history within them? Why does that past come out in most unprompted ways? Why is the pizza line at Costco essential for me to learn my grandfather's name was Salvador, that dad was buddies with famous luchadores, or that he is casual friends with many a notable playwright? I hope it's not the feeling that I'd be uninterested; I certainly am. His storytelling is so casual, so carefree. Maybe he likes the old days to be the old days and his place to be in the now, and his way of keeping the past at bay is to scarcely visit it, to give nostalgia no special regard. Perhaps he likes the chance to be mysterious, and he very much is in these moments. It's strange for there to be mystery between us, but that's unavoidable, I guess. I try not to take it as a barrier. We are mysteries even to ourselves; it's an unjustly tall order to make ourselves crystal clear for others, even our children, perhaps. Whatever it is, I treasure each pearl of the weird history, the places he has been and the trouble he got into. He was and still is that young man just as I hope to still be who I am today, even if in bite-sized, shocking portions.
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