I don't have many complaints about being born a worker ant. You may find the days of lions and tigers more interesting, and even a sparrow can fly up a branch to see it. But we have our benefits. There probably isn't anything in the world that's all bad luck, just as there isn't one thing that's all glittering. If I have to talk about the superiority of being a worker ant, it seems to me that, first of all, I am very satisfied with my appearance and color. Our ants don't have scales, feathers, patterns and colors, and they take a path that goes all the way to black. I heard that we have relatives called termites, but I don't know if they are white or not. If so, that's an unfortunate color. I can't explain to you why. Of course, it is wrong to judge people by their appearance. And I really am not a racist. But I am still very satisfied with my shiny black color. It's like hoping that the box is a bear doll with a pink bow before opening the gift, and when you open it, it turns out to be a bear doll with a pink bow, that kind of "really okay? It's amazing" mood. Second, we are a very silent species. Our communication is all carried out through the links of the tentacles. Overall, I find our communication style to be silent and intimate. At the end of the day, most ants silently clean their tentacles before going to bed, our very own way of ending the day. Of course, quite a few of us have cleanliness and choose to touch as little as possible. I was born in August, and I have some of that tendency. I often hear various noises on the road on duty, the wind blowing through the grass, the current changing speed, and the sparrows roaring non-stop. And we just lined up in long, curved lines, coming and going head to tail. There is an absent-minded sense of superiority in this silence. I know it may be vanity at work. But I'm just a young ant, and I'm allowed to be vain. Of course, being an ant does have a lot of hardships. But even these hardships often make me feel right to my taste. I don't know if this is the result of education. I think I probably do think so. For example, I have a feeling of rejection towards bees. This kind of mood should be said to be very common in the ant world. Those with hairy hands and feet, faces that look like flies, buzzing and buzzing, with zebra crossings on their bodies, dancing fancyly in the air. I've tasted nectar before, but I don't think it's very clever. I feel like they are a total paranoid species. Does the world really need such a concentration of high-sweet things? I feel that their existence is denied All the rainy days, all the autumn and winter, all the seriousness of not blooming. In contrast, we ants live on a more pessimistic and austere channel. And proud of it. Of course, this is my own opinion. We must have more composed and humble speakers. It's just that their answer is usually no answer at all. Another part of the ant world that is often considered very hard is the hard work hours. First we get up very early, second we work extremely long hours, and third we have no vacations. From the age of eight weeks, we climbed up from the underground ant nest with our senior predecessors and began to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless man in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. In contrast, we ants live on a more pessimistic and austere channel. And proud of it. Of course, this is my own opinion. We must have more composed and humble speakers. It's just that their answer is usually no answer at all. Another part of the ant world that is often considered very hard is the hard work hours. First we get up very early, second we work extremely long hours, and third we have no vacations. From the age of eight weeks, we climbed up from the underground ant nest with our senior predecessors and began to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless person in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. In contrast, we ants live on a more pessimistic and austere channel. And proud of it. Of course, this is my own opinion. We must have more composed and humble speakers. It's just that their answer is usually no answer at all. Another part of the ant world that is often considered very hard is the hard work hours. First we get up very early, second we work extremely long hours, and third we have no vacations. From the age of eight weeks, we climbed up from the underground ant nest with our senior predecessors and began to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless person in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. A more composed and humble speaker. It's just that their answer is usually no answer at all. Another part of the ant world that is often considered very hard is the hard work hours. First we get up very early, second we work extremely long hours, and third we have no vacations. From the age of eight weeks, we climbed up from the underground ant nest with our senior predecessors and began to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless person in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. A more composed and humble speaker. It's just that their answer is usually no answer at all. Another part of the ant world that is often considered very hard is the hard work hours. First we get up very early, second we work extremely long hours, and third we have no vacations. From the age of eight weeks, we climbed up from the underground ant nest with our senior predecessors and began to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless person in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. Climb up from the underground ant nest with the senior seniors and begin to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless man in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. Climb up from the underground ant nest with the senior seniors and begin to fulfill the duty of a worker ant. The dangers of dew were learned in the first class. It was an early autumn morning, the chill was already very tangible, and the light was still gray, not enough to judge what the new day would be like. We are brought before a dew to see how much danger what appears to be round and innocuous on the outside may actually be hidden. We were asked each ant to lightly touch the surface of the dew and experience the vortex of the hand being sucked into it instantly. There was a reckless person in the same batch, who unknowingly put most of his arms in, thinking it was a big deal. Who knew that the suction force would pull it in like a vortex, and one of his feet was unstable, and he plunged his head into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. Going in, I thought it was amazing, but the suction force pulled it in like a vortex, and the foot was unstable and plunged into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. Going in, I thought it was amazing, but the suction force pulled it in like a vortex, and the foot was unstable and plunged into the water droplets. The nearby soldier ants quickly stepped forward and dragged its hind legs out, which saved his life. Later, a companion asked him what it felt like in the water droplets, and it said, it was like kissing with huge cold lips. I think it's just showing off. Who knows what kissing feels like. We are just worker ants. Worker ants do not need kisses. Even so, this sentence took root in my heart. I once had a dream that I was standing in front of a dewdrop twice as tall as me, and seeing that there was no one left or right, I touched it with my tentacles. Sure enough, there was no response. The touch was so light that even the dew-tight skin did not penetrate. I tied the tentacles with a brown headband and tied it to the back of my head. I put my head and face together, my heart was beating loudly on my waist, and I could only see my face being reflected more and more in my eyes. Large and deformed, I thought, this is a kiss. I close my eyes. My cold lips cling to its sheer lips. But when I opened my eyes, I found that the dewdrop had disappeared. Looking down, all the dewdrops twice as high as mine entered my stomach. Countless companions passed by me. They were silent and did not come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. Don't make a sound, don't come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened. Don't make a sound, don't come near me. I shook my tentacles vigorously and shouted in my heart, "Listen to me, listen to me, it's not what you think." Then woke up frightened.
Now I am a senior worker ant. Occasionally, when the weather is good, you can go out for a stroll in the afternoon. My favorite is to walk around the lake. Autumn ponds are full of silent lakes like ours. It was a thousand dewdrop-like kisses that stayed by my side all the time.
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