The Even Greater Tokyo Region

Mosquito Massacre

Now, I have mentioned that I live in an asylum centre, but what I didn't mention is, that the entire complex is built in a swamp. As we all know, in swamps live dastartly creatures...


... like mosquitos. About 2 months ago, I thought I could kill the mosquitos in my room before going to bed. I lasted a few days, going through restless nights of sleep, culminating in a night where they drove me to insanity. I would hear them when the lights went out, and I'd turn it back on and try to find it. When I could find it and swat it, I thought "that's the last of them", and try go to sleep...

"zzz"....

This pattern continued the entire night, until I was trying to swat the mosquitos in the darkness- sometimes trying to swat them against my face. I tried hiding under the covers, but it was too hot. Eventually, I would fall asleep with the lights on for a few minutes until I heard the mosquio noise. Insane.

I didn't want it to come to this. People had told me to get a "klamboe", which is a mosquito net. Here, I'll show you the problem:
Apart from effectively keeping insects out, it also is super-effective at making your bedroom a whole lot gayer. Actually, I had the impression of it turning your bed into a cot. My line of reasoning was this: If I start sleeping in a cot, the next thing I know, I'll be wearing a diaper, pooping myself and getting a paid nurse-actress to clean up after me. But after that awful night's sleep, pooping myself seemed to be a reasonable price to pay. So, I bought a klamboe. It has ribbons. Why don't they make them for adult, heterosexual males? I'd even buy one with dinosaurs on it. But ribbons? Whatever.

So, it did help, although I discovered that it is not 100% effective. You see, every night I would still wake up and find a few mosquitos inside the klamboe. But they were easy to find and kill, and I then I would be able to go back to sleep, my bloodlust satisfied. Also, I learned to sleep inside my duvet cover. That way, my feet won't stick out. Still, I would always wake up with some bites. Only last week was the first morning I can remember here where I haven't had at least one itchy bite.

Now, I know that anyone who does not live in this asylum centre will think I am exaggggerating, but no. This place is literally infested with them. Recently, I have been killing upwards of 20 per day. As proof, I present to you the Mosquito Massacre Gallery- all taken in my bedroom. It also satisfies my need to vent my sadistic hatred for these miserable creatures.


I call this one the "instant fossilisation", because when I hit them, I hit them extra hard. To make sure, and to my myself feel better.


This one was splattered a while ago, but you can see that it was full of my blood.


I managed to hit this one so hard that it left a dirty smear all across the ceiling.

This picture is intended to show the density or carnage of some areas of my room.

When I hit them with my hand, they often stay relatively intact, and leaves wonderful reminders on the walls.

I also love it when you can't actually recognise any part of the insect.

This guy died very theatrically.
This is one of the bastards that found its way into the klamboe. It has the sea-turtle-in-fishing-net look going on. I think it works.

This guy must have been flattened between the net and the wall.
Usually, however, the mosquitos inside the net are already full of my blood. What happens is, I hit them against the wall, and the wall behind gets splattered red. This is the messy remains in the net.
Another fine specimen of the "instant fossilisation" type.

Such wonderful textures.

This one seems to be hairy. Or mouldy. Both ways, it's gross.

While I was shooting this gallery, another one buzzed by. These are the remains of it on my hand.
I don't know what that blob is, but I like to think this one got decapitated. It also has a very nice wing impression.

And here we can even see the intact blood-sucking appendage. I like how this one appears to be hanging on the wall like a trophy.

I hope now that the mosquitos take this as a warning sign. I am not to be messed with. Living in asylum has made me bloodthirsty for the creatures taking my own blood.