“I am become a flamingo.”—G.J. Condorcrest
There’s always been something oddly calling about humanoid birds. I could imagine them coming around to stare me into oblivion. It could all swing ‘round for a tea party. I really just need my mind cleared a bit, cleaned.
There is something about the crazy eyes of birds. Their sharp talons that could stab the shit out of me. Their independence and the cold solitary flights they take. It’s like they already have power over me. These things alone, I certainly have a fixation.
I feel forgotten. I don’t want my intelligence insulted. I feel like I’m deserving of respect.It’s unfortunate how hard it is to seek this out. Once I’ve finally found it, however, I’ll have some credence. I’ve only felt rejected and dejected. Mutual respect is important. It’s really childish how some of us just reject.
I enjoy feeling appreciated. I’ve lacked it and I’ve found it. The believers that I’ve surrounded myself with are really quite warm people. I envy their conviction, really. I’ve gone so much of my life without conviction of anything really.
With some of the novel friends I’ve made, we went dancing. It was wonderful. The catharsis I felt was an ecstacy unmatched in life up unto this point. I really had no idea how much I would like dancing. I adore them.
We went to the bird sanctuary. They told me that it was their held tradition to remain in complete silence when they visited. I’ve always been quiet by necessity, so I had no problem with it. It was really wonderful. I felt aligned with my friends in a really fantastic way. At this point, I’m definitely no outsider — one of the flock.
I’ve grown closer and closer with one of them. They took me abreast one day, and multiple feelings were emitted. It flew from a peck on the cheek to the passionate love we made that night.
It’s been more months than I can count. I am a bird. My partner — they are a bird as well. Birds are my animus to live.
I’ve started waking up at the crack of dawn. Stretching out to my full wingspan and look upon the horizon. I feel as light as a feather as I take in the smell of morning dew through my beak. My devotion to avians has grown exponentially in the past months. The avian class will be liberated. I’m ready to take flight and to fight for the glory and majesty of birdkind.
Yes. All heroes wear wings.