The weather was eery to begin with. My childhood best-friend's mother had asked me and my friend at the time to pick up her other son from private school. Fog hovered over the melting snow, a white canvas cascading from the heavens. So much mystery concealed in the bright darkness. Only trees close to the road, along with faded pink and blue houses are visible through the low hanging clouds.The memory of anything before the drive has been washed away, the remains of a dirt road after a hurricane. 

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The summer before my senior year, I inhaled deeply at the crest of a small mountain embedded between rolling green hills. Clean warm air flooded my lungs, dragging the rich scent of pine into my nose. A light breeze lofted a vulture, carrying the lengthy bird from the valley below to just over my head. A warm and illuminous feeling of fullness beaming from my heart, caressing everything I laid my eyes on. I wasn’t full because I had eaten (honestly I was hungry), I was full because I saw myself as one with everything. If I am one with everything, how can I be lacking anything?  

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It was roughly a 50 minute drive, per usual my friend immersed us in what I can only describe as Indie Rap. Strange melodic beats, dysphoric lyrics, placing me back into the trance I had been in all senior year. Unsatisfied with my friends, unwilling to put effort into school, completely disinterested in being.

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I vibrated with contentment. After another cleansing breath, I found myself looking for a place to sit and further bathe in the warmth of the universe. A large, sideways almond shaped rock had sprouted from the earth, making for a lovely place to rest. I thoroughly observed my new found place of contemplation to ensure the safety of all living beings. Just then the rock fluttered to life. 

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Off the highway now. Twisting turns, steep inclines, and the desperate urge to be alone in my bed, stood between us and our destination. I was strangled by depression. Piercing thorn infested vines, gripping my will to live as I sunk deeper into the earth. How can so many people be drowning in a desert of opportunities? Where do the dreams of our younger selves go when we wake up to the state of reality? 

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Impending dread enters my head, with a new song my darkness is fed. Snow on tha Bluff by J.cole, an unassuming woman taking a stroll. Just a few turns away, my trust in humanity she will betray. A cold steel guardrail defends cars from the river below, but it can’t guard me from what I do not know. J.cole elaborates, “But damn, why I feel faker than Snow on tha Bluff? Well, maybe ‘cause deep down I know I ain’t doin’ enough”. That’s when life got rough, when love became tough. The unassuming woman glances around, I'm the only car to be found. The desperation in her eyes wrenches at my sole, buried deep in my mind the sad solitude of a mole. She is yanked into the road by the force of her mind, the front of my speeding car she is trying to find. I have never seen such a dark thing so clearly.  

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Inhabiting the whole rock were thousands of ants, mighty little red ants. I observed them flowing over the surface with ease and tranquility. Unbothered by any fluctuation in the environment. Each member participating in developing serenity, Unaware of their collaboration, all moving simultaneously for the greater good. “Ants are like humans” I thought, in the way that everyone traverses the earth unaware of our connection to one another. However, unlike ants, humans require an awareness of oneness, without this we view ourselves as separate from our neighbors and the universe. 

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I was lucky that day, not the luck one wishes to have, but the luck necessary to continue living. I wasn’t the only lucky one. Moments before disaster, my car screeches to a stop. The woman had made it to my car a fraction of a second late, slipping on ice a matter of inches in front of the hood, she crashed to the ground and was out of sight. A storm of thoughts stampeded my brain, as anxiety, fear and relief fought for priority. My head jerked towards my friend who displayed that uncontrollable smirk of disbelief and shock. “What just happened?” he said with the shaky calmness of someone in denial. “I don’t know”, I replied. I looked over, noticing a man running across the road towards the woman who was still out of sight on the cold ground. He lifted her by the arm and started to practically drag her back across the road, all while yelling at her. Words which escaped my mind no sooner than entering.

 

I watched as the ants effortlessly glided around each other, fulfilling their duties. That's when I remembered something I saw on BBC Earth, a bewildering phenomenon of nature. The Zombie Ant Fungus. A type of fungus that will infect individual ants, possessing them, guiding them to perform beyond their will. This fungus will drain the nutrients of its host before using it as a garden bed for new spores. The whole colony must work collectively to dampen the spread of this disease. This highly intelligent mushroom positions the host in dense traffic areas, making the hollow body a biohazard to all. Too often humans follow in the footsteps of the contaminated colony and isolate the struggling individual. 

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I drove on. What else do you do in that situation? I desperately desired to call the cops, but what would I say? Nothing inherently wrong happened, it was only attempted. I needed to participate in justice, not because I was wronged, and not even because she committed this unmindful action. But because the disease of mental health willed her to act out of accordance with nature. How can the will of the world ever change if we do not recognize the dualistic society we live in? How can ants survive without working in harmony?