I don’t know whether it’s the pregnancy hormones or something else but I’ve been crying since early this evening, over something that my brain tells me is not logical to cry over.
So, this morning while I was cleaning the house, I saw a weird insect on the wall. I get excited when I see insects because I love killing insects with insecticide. There’s a rush I feel when I’m able to destroy something with little or no effort. It makes me feel like more of an advanced havoc-wrecker, and not like a basic cave man hunter. It’s the same reason why the reality of nuclear energy and its negative potentials get me excited (it’s just sad that I am a potential victim of a nuclear invasion).
Anyway, I ran straight to the laundry and grabbed the can of insecticide, praying the insect had not left. When I got to the living room, it was still there; perched on the wall. I shook the can and found myself smiling uncontrollable. I removed the cover, held my breath and sprayed the contents on the insect.
I usually like to watch my victims struggle but just then, the door bell rang and I had to go and open it. Then one thing led to another and I could not revisit my show till earlier this evening. I honestly did not expect to still see the insect on the wall. Usually, the insects either just fall flat on the floor and die or they try a little to fly some meters and still fall down and die. Either way, the insect dies.
But this insect of mine. It was still on the wall. Curious, I moved closer and saw that it was exactly the way I left it; it was exactly the way it was when I sprayed the insecticide on it. But then, it was dead.
Oh my God, It died without moving an inch. Without struggling for life.
For some reason, I just broke down when I realized what I was looking at. This was like putting a pillow over someone’s head without the person struggling for air; just sliding into oblivion . This was like drowning without struggling; just welcoming the waters into your lungs. It is so wrong! What could possibly be going on in the insect’s life that murder was a better deal?
And me. Shameless me. An insect going through the toughest time in its life, found solace on my wall. It probably like the calming gray color of my wall. It probably just came to blend in; literally. It probably came to find a quiet safe place to think about its life. It probably came to think whether it should commit suicide or not.
And me. Shameless me. I ran and rushed to kill it with joy in my heart.
I feel like those people I point my fingers at and blame for contributing to someone else’s suicide. I feel like a contributor to the too much pain on earth. I feel so terrible.
Hopefully, I wake up tomorrow and realize that it’s just the pregnancy hormones.
That’s not likely though.