ORIGINS: When the Brush speaks, we listen. What can we say? We did it for fun.
I have heard that real singers sing from their stomachs, and it’s a pity because I really liked my lungs. I really wanted to give those birds a chance to fill the air with their love. But if this life has to be defined by hunger, then so be it.
Don’t ask me why, but droopy-eared dogs remind me of bedsheet ghosts. If I were to stay behind, it wouldn’t be due to some regret or other. Loyalty. Love. Those would be my reasons for staying in someone else’s heart. Because that is what I was bred for. Not to howl at the moon once every 28 nights.
If I were a wolf, I wouldn’t bother with sheep’s clothing. I would have faith in the sharpness of my teeth.
This world is full of curious cats and ravenous birds. But I don’t intend to make it easy for them. If they want my bones, they will have to dig them out.
I am not looking for some bird that would take me under its wing. If I were a cat, I would pluck my whiskers. They would be the feathers in my make-believe wings. And I would use them to lure a wise owl or two. To satisfy my curiosity, not just my growling stomach.
Do I look like a tree to you? I am not here to put you first. To lift you in my arms and bring you closer to your dreams. I am a mountain. And you belong at my feet, where I can profit from you.
I promised to love all my children equally, and I haven’t broken my word. I can’t help how you feel. All portions were equal, and it is not my fault if yours doesn’t feel like enough.
Don’t worry, my children. I will never lie to you. Panda bears are the only black and white thing in this world. Good and evil. Day and night. Nothing good comes from lying. The sky is blue. And maybe, if you familiarize yourselves with the truth from an early age, that blue won’t become a depressing color in your eyes.