The mosquito
I hate mosquitoes.
I suppose I'm stating the obvious; who wouldn't hate blood sucking creatures that leave bumps as allergic reactions that are itchy as fuck? Who wouldn't hate animals that contribute little to the food chain and spread malaria to children that can afford proper healthcare? Who wouldn't hate the number one reason dengue is so widespread around the world? If there's one piece of evidence that would prove the non-existance of God it would be this: no benevolent man would ever create something as disgusting as a mosquito.
There's that God-awful noise again. That high pitched buzzing. As if we didn't hate it enough, the fucker has to make an entrance as well. Soft enough so that only you can hear it, but loud enough so you can't tell where it's coming from. It could be on your nose right now and you couldn't tell because the sound is everywhere. Buzzing in one corner and then suddenly reappearing in the next.
I go to my phone and switch on the light. I've been doing this for ages; waking up in the middle of the night to find the fucker. Shaking off the serotonine that my brain is swimming in, I slowly readjust to the light of my phone, focusing on the white walls of my room, looking for contrasts. There! A black spot on my wall. SMACK! It leaves a trail of blood. Revenge has been swift! But there never really only is one is there? And why does it have to cause a mess in its death? Now I have bloodstains on my hands, which means there's bloodstains on my pants. I looked at the bloodstains on the bedsheets and wondered how many times people have encountered this fucking problem. How many idiots end up like me, searching for mosquitoes in the dim of night like some fuckwit while the world is asleep.
The thing is you never really wake up straight away after being bothered by mosquitoes. You're still in your dream but scratching in reality. I don't know about you but I find myself in and out of reality and my dream. One moment I'm dreaming of London, and at the next I get a flash of annoyance of reality, and then I'm back somewhere else. You're not really dreaming, because you feel like you're half in reality already. That's what ticks me off about these guys. I can't get sleep properly. Better to not have it at all. I'm gonna find these little fuckers first. Call it public service for the next guy that gets bitten.
And does anyone else notice that the room must be so goddamn hot when you wake up? It's a sauna in here, and its supposed to be cold out for fucks sakes. Creak goes the windows as I open them. How long have they not been touched? The air outside is so cold, it's as if I'm living in my refrigerator. Of course, I can't wait for it to envelop my body. Wait! I think that's the last one by the wall! SMACK! Blood all over my hands. I wonder who was the last person it drank blood from and how close I am to getting aids. Nevertheless I think that's the last one. God the moon looks so good tonight. It's a full one as well. Finally some peace in the waking twilight.
How lucky to you think I would be to get another dose of that sweet seratonine tonight? I can only hope. In the meantime goodnight I say! Goodnight sweet moon. Parting be such sorry that I shall say goodnight till it be morn. Of course I mean that figuratively. I need to sleep, and I can't say shit when I'm sleeping.
End
I suppose I'm stating the obvious; who wouldn't hate blood sucking creatures that leave bumps as allergic reactions that are itchy as fuck? Who wouldn't hate animals that contribute little to the food chain and spread malaria to children that can afford proper healthcare? Who wouldn't hate the number one reason dengue is so widespread around the world? If there's one piece of evidence that would prove the non-existance of God it would be this: no benevolent man would ever create something as disgusting as a mosquito.
There's that God-awful noise again. That high pitched buzzing. As if we didn't hate it enough, the fucker has to make an entrance as well. Soft enough so that only you can hear it, but loud enough so you can't tell where it's coming from. It could be on your nose right now and you couldn't tell because the sound is everywhere. Buzzing in one corner and then suddenly reappearing in the next.
I go to my phone and switch on the light. I've been doing this for ages; waking up in the middle of the night to find the fucker. Shaking off the serotonine that my brain is swimming in, I slowly readjust to the light of my phone, focusing on the white walls of my room, looking for contrasts. There! A black spot on my wall. SMACK! It leaves a trail of blood. Revenge has been swift! But there never really only is one is there? And why does it have to cause a mess in its death? Now I have bloodstains on my hands, which means there's bloodstains on my pants. I looked at the bloodstains on the bedsheets and wondered how many times people have encountered this fucking problem. How many idiots end up like me, searching for mosquitoes in the dim of night like some fuckwit while the world is asleep.
The thing is you never really wake up straight away after being bothered by mosquitoes. You're still in your dream but scratching in reality. I don't know about you but I find myself in and out of reality and my dream. One moment I'm dreaming of London, and at the next I get a flash of annoyance of reality, and then I'm back somewhere else. You're not really dreaming, because you feel like you're half in reality already. That's what ticks me off about these guys. I can't get sleep properly. Better to not have it at all. I'm gonna find these little fuckers first. Call it public service for the next guy that gets bitten.
And does anyone else notice that the room must be so goddamn hot when you wake up? It's a sauna in here, and its supposed to be cold out for fucks sakes. Creak goes the windows as I open them. How long have they not been touched? The air outside is so cold, it's as if I'm living in my refrigerator. Of course, I can't wait for it to envelop my body. Wait! I think that's the last one by the wall! SMACK! Blood all over my hands. I wonder who was the last person it drank blood from and how close I am to getting aids. Nevertheless I think that's the last one. God the moon looks so good tonight. It's a full one as well. Finally some peace in the waking twilight.
How lucky to you think I would be to get another dose of that sweet seratonine tonight? I can only hope. In the meantime goodnight I say! Goodnight sweet moon. Parting be such sorry that I shall say goodnight till it be morn. Of course I mean that figuratively. I need to sleep, and I can't say shit when I'm sleeping.
End
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