Devastation

Noun

I Inspecting the wreckage,they say it’s a good thing you weren’t there, that you didn’t suffer. You bite your tongue. They do not know what good is.This is not it.


II  You feel free. You know you shouldn’t, that it’s wrong. You smile anyway.


III You suddenly feel like you are drowning and no one is noticing. You cover your face and begin to cry.

Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. the cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
The Fox was going to say something, but changed her mind.
Nevertheless, wolves came, Cat scrambled up a tree, and Fox died.

Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. the cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
“What! How much good can just one do, compared to hundreds?” exclaimed the fox.
Wolves came, and Fox greeted them, telling Cat they were her friends. “Hello” said the wolves to Fox.
“It is good to see you again, brothers.Shall we eat?” the wolves agreed.
Cat, thinking of fish, agreed as well.
The wolves killed the cat, and the fox and the wolves shared their meal.And that was one of fox’s tricks.

Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. the cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
“That is just as well,” said the fox,” for I can see what you cannot.” and the fox dashed away.
“What! How conceited Fox must be,” said the cat, '' I must not deal with her again.”
Wolves came, but the cat was so angry at the fox, that he only noticed when he was already being eaten.

Once, a fox was boasting to a cat.”So clever am I, I know hundreds of tricks! How many do you have?” asked Fox. Cat replied, “just one-but it is useful.”
“What! How much good can just one do, compared to hundreds?” exclaimed the fox.
Wolves came, and Fox had so many plans, Fox could not choose one, and froze in fear.
The cat scrambled up a tree. “There. That is my trick.Very useful-wouldn’t you agree?”
And the wolves killed the fox and ate it.

I am trying to listen to the birdsong
But all I am hearing are cars
And screaming and arguments and doubts
And I am trying to hear the birdsong
And I, in focusing on the things that are not birdsong
And being annoyed,
I cannot hear the bubbling brook
And the wolves howl
And the cicadas
And I do not notice
Because I am trying to listen to the birdsong.

Listen.
This is a story about despair.
This is a story about someone who was strange-
not strange like einstein was strange, not strange as in excellent-
strange as in always being too slow to catch up to what others were doing, and when they did, they did not understand it.
This is a story about someone who, when they finally managed to talk, the conversation had just ended.
This is a story about someone who gave up.
This is a story of how they looked around and noticed-
the birds were still singing.
this is a story about how, no matter the problems, there is hope-
for the birds are still singing for us.