Moth.

Oh moth, you got a free pass that time. Fluttering onto my laptop screen and respectively steering clear of the bits I was reading I allowed you to live. Or, at the least, live inside. After a while I felt you were welcome. I realise the reason you were hanging out with me wasn't for affection or lack of friends, you're positively phototactic and you rely on light to orient yourself in space BUT your nonchalance and seeming lack of embarrassment towards mistaking youtube for the moon made me respect your constitution.

Then morning came and with indignation I see a layer of yellow dust all over my laptop. We can hang out, but you just can't cover my things with your wing dust.

That's not cool, dude.

Laptop-pad art. Adrien Brody nose and all.