She was no longer naive to think that humanity would ever truly break out of the cycle that she’d seen it undergo throughout the many lives she’d had, nor was she foolish enough to think that being ‘woke’ in this current era was anything other than the self-aggrandizement that many people practiced when trying to think that they were wiser than the generations that had come before them. Every last person thought that they knew something about life that the previous generations had not. The expansion of knowledge wasn’t necessarily to the betterment of the human race, but it was amusing that they thought it was.
Being a part of this species was a bit vexing at times. She’d often wondered why she couldn’t come back as an animal or something a little more pure in its purpose, something that wouldn’t be bound by the moral and ethical implications that society placed upon her at all times. It felt like a bit of whining when she had such thoughts, but it was a bit of whimsy that she still couldn’t quite let go. After all, animals throughout the world didn’t want much, they just wanted to survive, but she supposed that they too had their own intricacies that she knew nothing about. The thought of coming back as a chicken and finding herself worrying about being penned up or left to run free where a fox might get her was rather disconcerting.
But she was human, through and through, and so she was bound by many other intricate aspects of a species that had a world at their disposal but had yet to figure out to use in the most efficient manner. Plus, the human race kept building the population to disastrous levels that the world around them was struggling to keep up with. Every time she came back it seemed like there were millions upon millions more than there had been when she’d passed.
(to be continued)