Little Blue Bird

It's something I wrote when I was really bored and super depressed.

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1. Little Blue Bird

I look out at the tree next to my window, there sits a little blue bird.

I stare at it and start to admire the shade of blue that pigmented its feathers, its pebble black eyes and its yellowish beak.

I start to wonder what it would feel like to be a bird, to spread my wings and fly.

I start to wonder what it would feel like just to worry about wind and migration.

Not a care in the world.

My wings could carry me anywhere in this big blob of a mess we call earth, anywhere.

To fly away from one tree to another, because there are so many things to explore, so many places I haven’t dreamt of going to.

I start to wonder what it would be like to look down at people and pity their stupid mistakes, and Thank God I didn’t live the way they did.

I wouldn’t feel what they did.

I would be happy in this life, and that’s all I wanted nothing more, nothing less.

If I were a bird it would mean I would get to fly away from my problems.

Not a care in the world.

It would stop all this anxiety, all this overthinking, all this depression.

I would be free to spread my wings and fly, fly away.

Far, far away.

 If I were a bird I couldn’t Love.

Hate.

Envy.

 Disappoint.

As my aunt once told me, avoid all the “too much” of anything.

Because too much Love leads to heartbreak.

Too much Hate eats your soul.

Too much Envy could lose you all your happiness.

And too much disappointment can destroy you whole.

I look out at the tree next to my window, there sits a little blue bird.

I wonder, does this bird look down and pity me?

Me and my messed up life.

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