Locust Diary

The goodbyes are engulfed in flames.

Nothing else to do now. Just let all those remain fly away. The two people who used to be close will now pass each other without knowing.

Now all the pieces have gathered. It's up to me now to reconstruct what I have left. This jigsaw puzzle of mine, seems to be missing something whenever I want to finish it. The picture is a blur, and in it I recognize a familiar silhouette.

It is from a person who wanted to walk together, but always leave me behind whenever we did.

I am sick. In body and in mind. But in our society nowadays, everyone is sick. Some won't know that they are, and only themselves can discover that.

For how long can we pretend that we are all healthy? Nothing is wrong with us, and we will live to the best of our age?

We put on our daily mask, and face the day like there is nothing wrong with the world. We devour our food and drinks and go out to work. We spend half the day at work and go home before dark. We take our time to relax, interact with others before heading to sleep.

What have we achieved by doing that?

When the mask starts to frown, we toss it away and purchase a new one. When we get full, we leave the food and drink behind for maggots to culture in. When we have a day off, we spend time with people who we see every week, talking of topics that is a repetition of what we talked about in the previous weeks. We sleep, and wake up, and sleep, and wake up again.

We are in an endless loop, and we are unwilling to break away from it.

We are a creature of habit, and that makes us vulnerable. We are predictable animals, and digging deep into our motives to get through each day, we are only driven by our urge to reproduce. We are in desperation to spread our seeds before we die, and hope that our offspring will spread theirs, too.

Why are we programmed like that?

I am not supposed to question why. Maybe I am a defect. Other people who question this are also defects. For us defects, where will we end up after we die? We carry within us the corrupted seeds, and maybe we are not meant to propagate. It won't be good to spread the bad seeds, isn't it?

But we are still alive.

Men putting on their colognes and hair-waxes, and women decking themselves in make-up and pretty clothes. I see this every day and wonder why do we have to do that. We have an insatiable thirst, and will continue to be like that for the most of our lives. The males are cursed to bear it until they die.

It is part of our routines, and we aren't supposed to question that.