“He wandered lonely for many a day. Looking and searching for something.
Inside he felt empty. He did not know what it was he was looking for.
And then he looked and he saw something.
He saw someone small and down and far from feeling.
“He’s like me” he thought.
“If I go to him we can talk and find common ground and laugh and cry and fly and sing!”

So off he went.

And at first it was good. It was something that filled that loneliness.
That feeling of empty flight. Flight from what?
Running from nothing, but such a big nothing that it filled him with a feeling of fear so large he had no choice but to run.

They talked and laughed and shared things with each other.
They would sit and whittle away the hours laughing and clucking.
All the while one not knowing the other was feeling contempt.

Contempt toward himself for letting the Other enter his life.
Contempt for letting his guard down.
Regret and Loathing and Dreaded Embarrassment for letting this…

This Other…into his world.

The Other knew him too well now…oh yes he did. His joking and laughing turned to barbs and insightful dissections of his character. His sticks and stones became words that could one day hurt him.

So he knew what he must do. He must go wander again. Walk the Earth with his own two feet and his worn out sole.

The Other never saw it coming. Such is the way of a Friend.”


The Moral of the Story; Birds should never trust men that claim to be their friend.



Make of this what you want. I decided to do something a bit different and scrawled out some conte crayon nonsense in the form of a little parable/fable/foible/anyotherloftyconcep tthatfits.

By the way. I am not this bleak. Just got into the role for this one.