I could look at them birds and they could look at me, all day. At times, I felt sad seeing them birds being the object of our amusement. I felt sad that some seemed more lonely than others (yes I psychoanalyse birds too, hurhur). But there are moments when I envy their freedom.
Sighs. When I look at them birds, I see me. And I begin to wonder ...
Am I happy or am I sad? Or am I .... nevermind.
The rubbish that I type makes me smile sometimes.
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