A caged parrot

Dream Feed

Arrrr…A blabbering fool was he who continued to express his inner demons to outer foes. A life longing for the one that they called clear and precise, and a button that made you dream any dream that you could dream. How does one get out of this world, that is coined left and right, by an idea that isn’t even right or wrong, if you think about it. Where is the lie that determines the fate of the man that continues to move its own feet, and the chariot that defies all odds by betraying its own beast.

Alas, will there ever be a mania where people prefer to choose to spend time doing the things they love?

Will it, won’t it, its all true; and lies packed into a bundle stapled onto a horse shoe buggy going 50 miles an hour South of nowhere, but straight into the desert – of that much it is sure.

Alone, captured, desolate and bundled up – the parrot squaks. “Squaaaak”. The people look, smile and ignore. Until the parrot continues to do the same, over and over again, and gets shot in the exchange. What good came out of it? What good came out of being bludgeoned to death by the sweet release of chemical death. In the clutches of the sands of time, the Arabian bullet that penetrated its lush golden feathers? Who hell, where hell, its all hell. Hell on a planet captured and raped by men on motors and women on dial-tone keypads talking their minds away while their hair curls and twists to every rhythm of sweet. The sweet smell of revenge lurking in the eye of the parrot killer.

Who is right and who is wrong in a world that doesn’t cease to amaze? A righteous wrong? Maybe red is the ultimate sin, or maybe its dreaming to be better?

Nothing is close to the idea that life is a game. A game worth playing, A play worth gaming. Nothing more. Nothing less. Until we are called back to go home. A beautiful home of which we were bored, and came here instead.

Boredom, the parrot’s greatest problem.




photo credit: Express Monorail via photopin cc



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