Life of a cricket

The life of a cricket ain’t easy. Birds, shrews and parasitic wasps see you as a nice meal. Conspecifics are only fit for one thing: mating if the other is a female, fighting if not. What would you do if you were a cricket? By times I find myself wondering how my life would be if I was born another species. Life would be so simple, without any haste, any deadlines, any complicated emotions and social situations. From the beginning onward I would instinctively know what was expected of me and I would try my utter best to fulfil my destiny.
Of course there are many things trying to keep this, for example, cricket from reaching its goals. But then, does that matter? If you have no clue about the world, only noticing your immediate vicinity. No clue about after life, reincarnation or even simpler things as predators trying to kill you. Only these strong instincts of feeding, reproducing and avoiding the unknown.


Isn’t ignorance a bless in this case?
But if crickets are able to do it, why is it for us humans so hard? We see ourselves as the ultimate species, the climax of evolution. But being so developed and sophisticated has its price. Never will we be able to get back to that unawareness that a cricket has. Never will we forget the past, stop worrying about the future and start living in the present. There are always exceptions of course, people who see the perks of being human and try really hard to avoid them. The mere fact that doing this is apparently not that natural for us worries me a bit. If this is the price we pay for intelligence, is it worth it? I’ve never seen a cricket or worm unhappy, even if they were missing half of their legs or cut in half.
Some days, dark days in which I’m plagued by dark emotions and unhappiness, I think I’d rather be a cricket.


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