Birds

For the last two work shifts I have been a door greeter out in the lawn and garden center. It is seriously boring. About the only thing that keeps me entertained are the birds that have made the outdoor covered area their home. They are particularly colorful around eight to nine in the morning. Lots of chirping and flitting about. And today while sitting there alone (except for the birds) I got to thinking...thinking about what the birds are thinking. Thinking about general bird life.

Do birds get involved in abusive relationships? Do they harp on their mate? Call each other bad names? Say shitty things to each other like, "Leave me alone you fucking psycho. I mean it. I will never love you so get over it and get a life."? Do they lie? Do they cheat on each other? Are they manipulative? Selfish? Violent? Rude? Abrasive? Do they tear each other down over and over? Play mind games? Use each other? Do they feel regret? Remorse? Hate? Do they experience heartbreak? Suffer harsh loneliness?

I wonder. I wonder what goes on in their little worlds. It all seems so simple for them. Fly here. Pick this up. Build a nest. Lay some eggs. Eat. Shit. Etc. I started wishing for a minute that I was a bird. That for a moment I could join their little world and see what really goes on. See if they feel any of the things we as humans do. And it got me to thinking about recent feelings I've had. And why. And about why people do what they do.

Why is it that people have the capacity to be so fucking cruel and evil? Why is it we hurt each other purposefully? What is the draw to cause pain? Why do we fall out of love? Or in love? Why do we have to create and experience such awful atrocities as war, murder, rape, abuse, etc? Why do some people's hearts shut off and go cold while others stay warm and bleed pain? Why does the outstretched hand get chopped off? Warmth and love rejected? What possesses people to be stupid assholes? I mean seriously. Seriously. I want to know. I want to know why good people get shit on by the world while the fucktards rule supreme. Why can't it be simple and clear cut...and nice. All I ask for is a little fucking nice. Argh. A little warmth. A little compassion. Some light in the dark cloud that seems ever present.

And all of these thoughts inspired by birds in a garden center.