I see it often in the morning, this bird. It is brown and small and it is fuzzy because I couldn't see it clearly through the window pane. It isn't very noisy, like the crowing cocks at dawn. And even if it were, it wouldn't have helped me avoid being late in my morning appointments. No ordinary bird can rouse me when I am dreaming.
I couldn't touch this bird. It is very elusive. I'm certain that once I reach my hands through the opening of my window it will have flown away. Wild birds. They're like flies. I had a pet cock once. It did not have the brains to acknowledge me as its master but at least I could stroke its smooth white body and it won't fly away. Bird brain.
Anyway, back to this tiny brown bird I'm talking about, I wonder whether it feels lonely. I know, it is hard imagining birds to get sad and all since they're often very twittery and fluttery and stuff but what if it's just a cover? It would have been the perfect twist to their existence. They were given the gift of flight because they need to catch up with something. They were given the gift of song because... because they need to express their loss.
If I sing to this bird this morning, will it be able to understand? Will it be able to look me in the eye, its head tilted sideways, and feel what I wanted it to feel? And when it flies away, as it inevitably would because it is untamed, will it be able to sing my song back to... you?
No.
So my window will remain closed. No more birds for me. Not anymore. Always, always. Once I reach for it, it flies away. I can look at it. I can think about it. But I cannot touch this bird. Otherwise, it will fly.
Away.
I wonder if the bird feels the same about me? How will I feel when this bird forces itself in through my window? Freaked out, to say the least.
Same same I guess...
I couldn't touch this bird. It is very elusive. I'm certain that once I reach my hands through the opening of my window it will have flown away. Wild birds. They're like flies. I had a pet cock once. It did not have the brains to acknowledge me as its master but at least I could stroke its smooth white body and it won't fly away. Bird brain.
Anyway, back to this tiny brown bird I'm talking about, I wonder whether it feels lonely. I know, it is hard imagining birds to get sad and all since they're often very twittery and fluttery and stuff but what if it's just a cover? It would have been the perfect twist to their existence. They were given the gift of flight because they need to catch up with something. They were given the gift of song because... because they need to express their loss.
If I sing to this bird this morning, will it be able to understand? Will it be able to look me in the eye, its head tilted sideways, and feel what I wanted it to feel? And when it flies away, as it inevitably would because it is untamed, will it be able to sing my song back to... you?
No.
So my window will remain closed. No more birds for me. Not anymore. Always, always. Once I reach for it, it flies away. I can look at it. I can think about it. But I cannot touch this bird. Otherwise, it will fly.
Away.
I wonder if the bird feels the same about me? How will I feel when this bird forces itself in through my window? Freaked out, to say the least.
Same same I guess...
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