"Each of you is a little snowflake, special in your own way." That's what it's like to be a cicada. My brood, codenamed Bravo Foxtrot Denmark, has assailed midtown Nashville. I would tell you how many of us there are, but truthfully, we don't even know. All we know is that we are on a mission -- to reproduce that our 13 years under ground may not be in vain.
This is my diary. My name is Cade. I never knew my father. Or my mother for that matter. It's given me quite a complex. I keep trying to prove myself so that some looked for paternal or maternal figure might notice me amidst my brood-mates. I don't even know if we're related. That's what it's like to be born an insect -- abandoned. No one but the company of tens of thousands of others around you -- who have no better clue than you do -- to figure things out. So yeah, without instruction, don't act surprised by how mindless we appear. But I'm different. You might be wondering how I can communicate as I am doing now -- how can I be so conscious and conscientious -- how am I anticipating your suspicions? Well, I know what you're thinking and no, cicadas don't go to school. The truth is, I was educated in a past life. I have been reincarnated as a cicada as punishment for my vanity and reckless dealings with others when I was last human. I won't tell you who I am though, lest you judge me and decide that you no longer want to hear my story. It is quite a valiant story, if I do say so myself.
I won't tell you what to expect either from these cables. You'll just have to read on and see. But I can promise you this: my life is a very interesting one -- probably the most interesting of all my kind. In fact, someone should probably make a movie about it. Stay tuned.
