My nest always kept journals. I think that tradition was cute. I intend to continue them.
I have now lived among the humans for six months. They are more disgusting then expected. Strangely cold as well. They have all these rules that they follow that made at least some sense while I was within the nest, but now… I can't believe how blind they are, wandering around in their sky scrapers aimlessly constantly building, expanding, growing, but never stopping to learn. Perhaps human life is simply too short. Maybe it is hard to be able to take time to slow your life down when you know you may only have one hundred years maximum. Knowing that my life will last as long as I keep my wits about me makes me want to actually sit down and learn something instead of rushing in to every situation head first.
Humans have such a simple view of the world. They think they are the best. Period. End of line. T'here is no arguing with most of them. What they seem to not realize is that many creatures have been here long before and will continue to be here long after. They act so entitled to the land they have, and true. They have fought very hard to keep it, but their inability to share, even amongst each other, is disgusting. They seem to have no compunction for the way they treat some creatures, but are greatly disturbed by the treatment of others. Compare for a moment dogs and chickens. They both react to pain, they both react to frightening situations, they both get excited by food and the promise of shelter. Even with these similarities the majority of chickens are tortured for all their lives and dogs are usually given a royal treatment. I suppose I need to choose for myself whether people are chickens or dogs.
Though they have already put themselves in pens. Perhaps they are choosing their own fate.
There are of course exceptions. Dorian, Zak, Ellis, and my nest.
The nest, I suppose his name should be remembered. Devin. Devin was excellent. I wish that his death was not required for my birth. I would like to ask him what he thinks of me. It was interesting to see the world from behind his eyes. To see his friends and his life so deeply. His friends always seemed to write him off as some stupid thief. I would not say this is so. Scared? Yes. Impulsive? Of course. He also seemed to have a great deal of potential kindness that was pushed to the back of his soul as his survival instincts took over. As he neared the end of his life he became so frantic… though his final days were days of pleasure. He became very close to Dorian; I suppose that is why I lived with him for so long.
I believe humanity needs guidance. It has so much potential. Wasted. If they could be guided, bred, factory farmed for their sheer force of will they could be used to warp the cosmos however I see fit.
It appears that I will have quite a bit on my plate for the next few millennia.