What ever happened to the rollie-pollies? Surely they’re still around. Could it be they’re no longer in my periphery because I am no longer as low to the ground?
Sometimes I feel like a rollie-pollie, if you touch me I will curl up into a tight ball and try to get away.
I saw a kid at the park who reminded me of one of those bugs. He freaked me out because he was so small but wearing adult-looking clothes. He had on one of those puffy coats and dark pants, but was only like a foot off the ground. Plus he kept doing summersaults—which obviously meant he was trying to imitate creatures he and his brother find in the cracks of sidewalks. Or a rollie pollie bit him and he will soon (if not already) turn into a two-year-old super hero. I can’t wait for that movie.
I’m wondering at what point I stopped paying attention to the details, the creatures hidden in the cracks, the little things in life that make it interesting...
I haven’t entirely forgotten but those memories seem trapped or hidden within the deep terrain of my brain—far back in my subconscious or something—they exist only for weird dreams or links to newer images, details, situations.
When I looked up images for the rollie pollie what I found were bigger and grosser looking organisms than I had remembered. Why did I ever touch those things? And why isn’t there a set way to spell the word? And why do we call them "bugs" when they're really isopod crustaceans?
What else have I forgotten that I will one day re-member? Why does my brain feel like a big storage facility instead of a thinking, working machine? What else is in there? I want to remember now! But I guess I don't need to. Or I would. Right?
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