Something I come back to often, is insects in man-made “lands,” such as this knitted place mat that a hitchhiking weevil found itself on after I removed it from my own person. Certainly, they’ve taken a tripe, and perhaps it actually is strange to them (or perhaps not), but I imagine it isn’t especially long to them. I imagine they don’t have that compulsion to anticipate the future even when it’s hopeless, nor the accompanying wellspring of anxiety. Bugs stay on their path even when they’re off it.
Brief note on our weevil: I tagged this “butternut curculio” because it looks like one I posted before, but I have not really verified that. I also found it in an area where I don’t think there are any butternut trees (unlike the last one), which gives me pause to recommend the ID strongly.