I am possessed by my own memories. I cannot ever let go of them because if I did I would be faced with the giant void my present is. If I let go of the past, then there is nothing before me. I want to say that it is all my fault, all my own doing, but I have those diaries, and they show a pattern.

They show a pattern and the only way back to retrieve all the pieces of I.

What I actually fail to understand is why our own species is on this planet in the first place. Why it even exists at all.

Nature, the natural circle of life among all other species that exist on Earth, is an intricate clockwork orchestra. It is a blind justice out there, all about survival of the fittest, a constant battle against the elements, but in the end the balance is preserved naturally. Men, on the other hand, come into play wrecking the order, tipping the balance one way or another, changing everything with the excuse that our ‘intelligent’ status allows us to colonise the whole world.

They brandish religion or gods to justify our control over all things, battling even against nature itself to be the masters of the Earth. We spread, and spread, across region after region, leaving devastation in our wake. We are constantly forced to move to another part of the world to drain all the resources we may find, again leaving but destruction behind. That has been the human pattern so far.

We act so much like a virus would. We constantly adapt, growing stronger every time something attacks us or tries to destroy us... I could go on, and on. This is hardly an original comparison, is it?

Like a virus, or even a cancer, we spread, and spread - randomly. And people love this randomness! Much like pigs would, they take blissful mud baths of sheer randomness. Then they make their over-zealous minds feel good about it through delusions that justify their actions. Yet... still they expect me to take them seriously... They expect to be treated as unique individuals.

If the whole of human nature was supposed to behave like a virus, then I would not be questioning such behaviour. No one would be, actually. The fact that there is always a handful out there of people that will question our actions, away from most corruptions, shows at least one thing: It must be possible for the human race to tame its virus-like instincts and be more.

I just don’t know how. A handful against a majority makes a poor army.