God, sometimes my Buddhist background makes me care so much for the small creatures it's borderline pathetic
Yesterday I sprayed some poison on a cockroach that was sneakily lurking in my bathroom. The 2nd one in two years. I just left the poor agonising creature there and went to bed. Today, I woke up and threw it in the bin. As I was doing the stuff one does in the bathroom, I looked at the roach and paid attention to every movement. Wasn't it supposed to be still after 12 or so hours? Were those just random spasms, or was I a witness of the last moments of a fellow creature?
The amount of time I spent meditating about it (or, in a rather rude langage, merditating, as we Latins call it) was just stupid