When you don’t need sleep, you have a lot of time to puzzle over the mysteries of the universe. How did we get here? Do I have a purpose? Why would a plant feed on human sexual gratification?
That last question would still keep me up at night, even if I could sleep.
But I can’t. I’m a plant. A sentient plant, sure, but a plant nonetheless. I have more sensors than my fern brethren and I can control my movements, but at the end of the day, I’m basically a fancy ficus. Rooted to the ground, I watch the world moving around me and wonder why I am the way I am.
Of course, humans come to study us. They want to know *where* we are and *how many*, but they should be asking themselves *why*. Why? By all logic, it doesn’t make any sense. Yet here I root, watching the path and waiting for a hiker that piques my interest. We can survive on sunlight alone, but we really thrive when we fuck humans better than their own kind could ever manage.