That’s alright, little ant. You can bite me and seek your next piece of sugar. There are no worries about your feelings of survival. Your antennas address the deep necessity of eat. Like I use to eat my own heart, thinking it would be my essencial and ultimate sugar. Your paws touch my skin, and when your viscera penetrate my viscera, I’m newly feeling myself. Maybe ants have to much to teach to humans. Maybe, just maybe, we are inevitably doing the same path ants do. The eternal search for the right purpose made by the sake of my weakness. Ants have no prisons. Humans have. Ants want to live. Humans, not always. The absurd of existence created our relations, emerged then the impression of ants. Shakespeare shout the heart disease to the world. I was speechless meanwhile. After, not seconds, but hours posteriorly, my hearbeat became the blusterin echo of my soul. Then I realize why ants are so important, and why we love so much the inflexible drama.
Autor: Lucas Vinícius da Rosa