, , , , , , , , ,

In what way am I like a cockroach? In what way am I not like one?

I eat trash, that is to say, the food I eat is not all that great. I have the option to eat better food, a roach does not. I sometimes just eat whats out of the cupboard. There are also times I just eat when it is dark out, and I hide in my room when there is daylight. I don’t skitter away when the sun is out, I am more like a slug in that instance. I feel like a roach when I eat, because I eat bad food at night. I feel like a roach because I feel smaller than the people around me. I feel like a roach because sometimes I feel like a very subtle pest.

To say that I feel like a cockroach or bug might be a bit much. On average I feel nothing like a cockroach, and I hold the same amount of disgust for the habits of the bug. However, I cannot say that I have never had days, weeks, where I have felt like that. The sensation of the largeness of everything else. Everyone I know demands authority, I feel like an insect under their shoe sometimes! Is this what Kafka was doing in Metamorphosis? Everyone is a human, but I feel like an over sized bug who’s carapace is just as fragile as it would be on a normal scale. Like Gregor, it just starts one morning, the roach appears out of nowhere.

Roaches are not organized. They live in filthy places, with food on the floor and half eaten. They don’t finish their food, though I usually do. I don’t finish much else. No real discipline. No person holding the reigns all that tightly. Lots of unfinished work, especially this one!

Cockroaches thrive. They are hard to get rid of, too. The amount of life a building, forest, lake, or whatever can hold, the richness of biodiversity, never seems to consider the cockroach. Why should it? Who wants to know how well the cockroach is doing? No real value, since if one place cannot support a roach, there will always be another. There are lots of cockroaches, there are lots of people the same as me.

Celebrate the uniqueness! Individuality! Specialness! What is all that, if I know I am a roach? Just a copy of the last, maybe to produce another roach for the future. Millions share my same identity. I can’t make anything but more cockroaches. Even my cockroach is a copy, Kafka described before I even got the feeling. My plagiarism is what I am made of. Just a collage of my environments, a roach preferring the indoors to the outdoors. The preacher has it right. Nothin’ new under that dang ol’ sun! 

Pity, pity, pity! Pity? Pity. Roach under the shoe, poor little bug. Roach feeling blue, poor lil’ fella. Roach has not done anything new. Shouldn’t complain, it isn’t unique! This has happened before, it is happening again, and it’ll keep happening long after me.

I am lucky I don’t feel like a cockroach all the time.