Archive for the ‘Quotes’ Tag

Confessions of a Feathered Friend

Here I sit on the roof of collected notions, a construction put up over the centuries by people feeding their need for being wanted and loved. In an attempt to make the invisible visible and permanent, as if this really changes anything. And only because sitting on the grass somewhere doing the same thing cannot be passed on, they think, though this would be much more genuine.

I landed on the parapet of what feels more like a gaol than a place of joy. Built, believe it or not, to keep out many of their co-croyants, yet giving me a chance to rest and reflect after my own flight of discovery. They call it the House of God, but up here wired it electrically while below and at dark shutting doors to keep out the tired, the hungry and the sick as if they suffer by the clock. And making me wonder how they built these enormous structures with a stiff neck, always looking the other way, endlessly looking at and after themselves.

 And what about the prejudice that comes with saving your hide before saving the one of others, by the creatures building structures like these? Because even if they have no fur and no hair to speak of, hides they do have, and thick ones, too, though no feathers. Telling us we’re un-clean, diseased and defecating all over, when they’re making a mess of things wherever they dwell. Mistrusting and killing each other when they feel like it, in the name of a slow brainwave they call Lord.

Here, hold my horn-rimmed glasses and my cigar and my Manhattan and I’ll show you in the Wall Street Journal why we stand accused of infesting society. Though look, look at me, I didn’t hurt anyone, releasing my droppings all over the place, spreading viruses or waking up the world with loud cooing. That’s them and almost a business it seems.

Truth by definition cannot be prejudice, they say by way of self-defence and unable to take the slightest criticism, insisting that if hundreds of thousands of a certain kind do something, they’re all guilty and subversive to boot if not of the same prayer. But even if I’m peaceful, clean, entertaining, providing and sharing, they’ll still insist they’re right about me. And that’s when I say, as long as there’s one who’s different, one with pin-striped plumage, they should never say ‘They’re all like that!’, don‘t you agree with me? Afterwards hectoring it’s all in the proportions, that true, nothing is absolute except their faith, and claiming to be overwhelmed all the same by us, when actually they’re the ones who overwhelm out of proportion. Implying we’re the invading kind, taking over their society, and certainly, we have our own vision, at least I do and so do my brothers and so what? Though we must learn to keep a low profile, not flap our wings too much, because down there they’re in control, not up here, thank who or whatever for that.

No, more I look at them, less I want to be like them despite some of that fleeting success of theirs. Sure, sometimes I wished I could cross my legs and sit like them, and least when reading a newspaper, but as for the rest they’ve lost it. Like if I built myself a granite coop with smart stained windows and a huge, bolted door, coercing dozens of mine to sit inside and sing dressed up, no longer able to hear the music produced by water and wind, by songbirds and others.

It’s good to be out looking in, it’s good to be up looking down, it’s good to be few and free and strong, when they’re many and weak. I know I’m sitting on their structures, but I can leave and they can’t, the price they pay for visible permanence. I can float, sail, rise, dive, crossing oceans on my own, eating, drinking, resting, feeling happy and living just as long, with those I love flying alongside me. And I’ve never killed or hurt anyone. So of those two worlds, which one’s the better? And this Lord of theirs, does He know what company He keeps, what He has also wrought?

But you must excuse me. I have to see an ornithologist…. about my beak!

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