#if you read all of it congrats. u get anti-itcj cream

[htylmg]

when the last traces of the day fade that is when the mosquitoes feed. they feed and they feed but they are never satisfied. what vengeful god would create such a creature, who is forever insatiable and buzzes in the ears of man, ripe with their lifeblood? whose altar have we desecrated for this sisyphean task of swatting and slapping as if at ghosts? or perhaps they are the gods themselves, skimming over tepid water, breeding not in secret shame, but in the privacy of power. these deities are here to mock us, stop the train of human enlightenment with a single finger, laughing at our anthills, at us scurrying to and fro from our self-made, herculean tasks, growing grayer and more dead by the day, all the sweeter to them. we scream into the faceless pit of defiance, as there is no escaping that cacophony that strikes both dread and dead fear into the hearts of men, and there is no use trying to escape the mosquitoes.