We call them harvestmen here. I think they're funny, because when you disturb one in it's web, it starts swinging around madly. They're the ones I'm trying to encourge in the bathroom, but I don't think they like moths, and there's something up with the kind of flying insects about this summer. Usually the lightbulb would be caked in much smaller things.
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You aren't thinking or really existing unless you're willing to risk even your own sanity in the judgment of your existence.