The desire for simplicity.

I've begun thinking tonight, a dangerous activity in and of itself, while I stare at our store's mascot's dead corpse. He was a mouse, a simple black and white mouse that cost our till all of $2 to acquire. His name was Lenny.

He lived, to put it simply. He didn't need to go out and be with his own kind. He ate, drank, ran on his wheel for a bit, and slept. He couldn't possibly have conceived the idea of societal pressure we humans have created for ourselves, he didn't know he NEEDED to attract a female, he didn't know he should get someone to live out his days with, how ever few they were. He didn't know about dating sites, or bars, or clubs, or loud music. All he knew was that when his dish or water bottle got low a giant hand would invade his world, for all he knew it could've been the hand of god, and replenished his basic needs as that hand saw fit.

Did Lenny understand being lonely? Did he understand a plethora of emotions we humans batter ourselves with? Could he begin to comprehend if one day he had learned to talk and had conversed with one of us cashiers one day? Could we explain to him why we feel we need god(s)? How about blind faith? Complete and utter trust? It's taken me almost 19 years to understand why people need their god(s), mice only live on average for 1, maybe 2, years...would that be enough time?

I am somewhat envious of his existence. I want to know I don't have to worry about anything, all I need to do is eat, sleep, run around, then sleep some more. Simple existence would make the world a much better place. If we didn't care what others around us did, wouldn't we be a better species?

But for now I shall give Lenny a disgaceful burial with a white plastic bag and the garbage bin. You will be remembered for your simplicity, Lenny, enjoy your eternal slumber next to old onion peelings and disgarded food from the restaurant next door.



-Because I can