Once upon a time, I knew a dog. It was a silent dog. I never had heard it bark. Whenever I approached it, I saw it turn away, stretch out into the millenia behind it. It never barked at me. It never ever actually barked, y'know. It just turned its face away. A sign of utter rejection. A rejection to what was in front of it.
One day I decided to finally talk with it. Make it bark out, "woof woof", or maybe even a yelp.
Me: Dog, why don't you talk?
Dog: Because no one ever talks to me.
Me: But why not you, why not you, who should be talked to?
Dog: I do not know, but I am blind. I know not a many things, just like this.
Me: You, are blind? But how can a dog be blind, it is the fairer version of man.
Dog: The fairer is the blinder, so the fairer can be fiera in life. And so it is blind. But me, I was just born blind, not by fate, but by accident.
Me: Dog, does that mean this world has not been seen by you yet?
Dog: Do you really need eyes to see, and sight to read?
Me: Yes, of course, how else could you have guided Yudhisthira in his voyage? How could you have distinguished between the Egyptians, and the Jews? How could you have guarded the gates to hell?
Dog: You must understand, I am but God in reverse gear. There can not be much difference, however long the vertical distance maybe among us.
Me: But then, how could you become a bomb, a leaf-out-life bomb, in the battlefields? How could you get high on cocaine, so you'd always sniff out a bit more of the acid below you? A discourse, a disgrace, or a digress?
Dog: It is not my doing, it is yours. Your kind, and what they make me do. Their thoughtlessness, a good reason for my sightlessness. You ask too much, kid, you know that?
Me: I'm sorry, but Dog, tell me, do you not miss seeing the midnight madness of the moon? Do you not want to roam about the streets, your tail being the proud flag-bearer of the last free world? Do you not miss howling when the apocalyptic seperation anxiety strikes? Do you not want to hunt, with a twenty other warriors, just so you'd know, you have lived, for a day more?
Dog: One never really misses these. Such things, they are our private memory. They live in us forever. Not something we miss, not something we share, not that you'd understand anyway. Besides, I am a shy dog. Go now, I've answered enough for a day.
Me: Well then, that was weird. By the way, Dog, would you like a biscuit?
Dog: *bark happily*
And the tale waves on.
One day I decided to finally talk with it. Make it bark out, "woof woof", or maybe even a yelp.
Me: Dog, why don't you talk?
Dog: Because no one ever talks to me.
Me: But why not you, why not you, who should be talked to?
Dog: I do not know, but I am blind. I know not a many things, just like this.
Me: You, are blind? But how can a dog be blind, it is the fairer version of man.
Dog: The fairer is the blinder, so the fairer can be fiera in life. And so it is blind. But me, I was just born blind, not by fate, but by accident.
Me: Dog, does that mean this world has not been seen by you yet?
Dog: Do you really need eyes to see, and sight to read?
Me: Yes, of course, how else could you have guided Yudhisthira in his voyage? How could you have distinguished between the Egyptians, and the Jews? How could you have guarded the gates to hell?
Dog: You must understand, I am but God in reverse gear. There can not be much difference, however long the vertical distance maybe among us.
Me: But then, how could you become a bomb, a leaf-out-life bomb, in the battlefields? How could you get high on cocaine, so you'd always sniff out a bit more of the acid below you? A discourse, a disgrace, or a digress?
Dog: It is not my doing, it is yours. Your kind, and what they make me do. Their thoughtlessness, a good reason for my sightlessness. You ask too much, kid, you know that?
Me: I'm sorry, but Dog, tell me, do you not miss seeing the midnight madness of the moon? Do you not want to roam about the streets, your tail being the proud flag-bearer of the last free world? Do you not miss howling when the apocalyptic seperation anxiety strikes? Do you not want to hunt, with a twenty other warriors, just so you'd know, you have lived, for a day more?
Dog: One never really misses these. Such things, they are our private memory. They live in us forever. Not something we miss, not something we share, not that you'd understand anyway. Besides, I am a shy dog. Go now, I've answered enough for a day.
Me: Well then, that was weird. By the way, Dog, would you like a biscuit?
Dog: *bark happily*
And the tale waves on.
