August 6th, 2015, 10pm

“Birds of a feather flock together”

The red birds will associate with the reds, the blues with the blues, the greens, the yellows… you get it. Every bird will find somewhere to fit.

Now say that there is a red bird, no different from the rest of the red birds, but this one has a poof of hair on his head. This bird is welcomed by the other red birds with no discrimination and the this bird is happy to be in the company with them.

However this bird faces a conflict, he wishes to find another bird with the same poof of hair. It could be a blue, green, yellow… whatever colour of bird. Just a bird with a poof. The problem is that the bird cannot find another one with the poof of hair.

The bird asks, and is told to wait; to wait until another bird with a poof appears. He does as told and waits and still that bird does not appear. He asks again and is told to wait; so he does, and still nothing. He asks a third time and receives the same answer. He waits.

The bird now reflects on himself. Perhaps this poof of hair was never meant to be, and just by some accident he developed it. He then begins to neglect it, ignore it, and as a result it begins to wither; degrading into a faded version of itself.

The bird realizes that his poof is ultimately a part of his identity, and cannot part with it. He then begins to hate and despise it, hiding it from the other birds and convinces himself to be content with the other red birds. The bird sinks into sorrow, and his hatred for his uniqueness grows and grows. He buries his problem, and watches in agony as his poof deteriorates.

The bird still waits, but does so as he watches his poof disappear. He knows that at some point it will be too late, and when another bird with a poof does appear; he will no longer have something to share with it.

Craig said thanks.

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