Chapter 1: A Simpler Life

In a bizarre twist of fate, I find myself envious of you, dear Cockroach.

You remain oblivious to the turmoil I've experienced this past year. Each morning, I awaken in a cold sweat, only to step into my sanctuary, hoping to wash away my anxiety, and there you are, unfazed.

You glide into my room as if you own the place, reveling in your freedom while I feel like a prisoner in my own home. Despite my pleas and attempts to guide you away, you flit about my belongings, asserting your dominance in my personal space.

Now, you lie in wait, lurking until I let my guard down. I sit in self-imposed exile on the couch, pondering how to reclaim my territory.

Alas, a combination of mental and physical malaise has overwhelmed my spirit.

Anxiety, malaise, despair, and uncertainty plague me, leaving me with brief moments of indifference—my only refuge. However, your presence has disrupted whatever little peace I managed to grasp.

You are unaware of the world you reside in, Cocky. Humanity has truly lost its grip.

A small elite has stripped us of our means, bombed our children, and turned vibrant landscapes into barren wastelands. We now inhabit the graveyard of our own future.

I suspect your species would never harm its own. You’d likely endure even through the bleakest of times that our so-called leaders seem intent on inflicting upon us.

What a tumultuous year it has been!

2020 merely opened the door to a new era of severe oppression and blatant disregard for human life. The masks have come off, revealing a grotesque reality.

It is horrifying to witness a generation consuming its own, yet here we are—one generation devouring the next until we reach our own extinction.

I fear for Gen Z. Their focus is primarily on fleeting fame and "going viral." It seems a necessity now to yell from virtual rooftops just to carve out a living.

The so-called "attention economy" is a source of disgust for me.

Yes, Gen Z, let’s capture selfies and create TikTok moments while the world crumbles around us.

You remain oblivious to the depth of disillusionment this year, Cocky.

I suppose I might be deemed a contrarian. I genuinely dislike the direction popular culture is taking us, and I harbor a strong aversion to participating in it.

Yet, leading a quiet and unassuming life feels impossible.

Someone must stand against this madness; we need a voice to pierce through the chaos of our times, however faint that voice may be.

I’d wager that if you possessed the capacity for thought, you would be glad to escape our human plight, Cocky.

Having traversed vast continents, I can confidently say that truly good humans are a rare breed.

Those who are good often feel isolated amidst a tide of malevolence, deception, and betrayal that seems ever-present.

Good people perceive life as an ongoing crisis, a relentless struggle against willful ignorance and cruelty.

What’s the point, Cocky?

In many ways, I envy your simplistic existence. You can retreat beneath the bed at will, resting in the cool darkness, with little more to concern you than scavenging for crumbs.

That sounds like paradise to me now.

I've come to understand that a complex life is not necessarily a better one.

I know you are still out there somewhere.

Rest easy, little fiend; our battle is far from over.

[Goa, India 2023]

Thanks for reading. For more of my thoughts, feel free to explore further: