once upon a time there was a small bird who was so strongly enchanted by the wonderfall sound of the human voice, he woould sit on his tree day after day and listen to there strange and magical melodys form in there strange rounded beaks, though there was one sound in particular,perhaps sound is a false interpritation,yes patern is what he thought it was like, he heard one patern in particular, and not only in one place wither, but in many places, crowded with these mystical singers, walking hand in hand with there beautiful voices. But for what reason? why is there places and times where a melodys filled with freedom,wonder and inspiration are let loose and others where the only tunes are those of suffereing and coming together and spreading out there song just as i spread out my wings? and why can i not decide which ones are more beautiful? why am i lost in the decision between suffering and freedom? yet i live my live free to fly heither and to do anything? if i wanted i could spear a glass of water, a dollar, a meaning. Because for me it is already written. my life is already lived, its been lived by everyone else, by thoose who have decided what i do during the day, those who decide what language i have to know, those who have decided that if i dont eat breakfast i will die younger, those who have decided that i am too young too smoke, too young too drink, too young to make love, too young to live.
I am 15 years old, i am insicure, i have evrything i want, i am happy, i am sad, i am you and you are me, i am no bird but i have created one and you have created one.
show me now how to live with that? how do we live? how do we look for anything? when those things we wnat are bieng destroyed for the things that we 'need'? i am pathetic i am a lovesick monkey.
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