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Loop-De-Loop
No one understands the bird who flies across the road just as a giant truck barrels by. No one gets that when the giant cloud of feathers settles down in a perfect circle around a bloody carcass, sometimes it's an act of mercy from Ama. No one stops to think that maybe the bird doesn't want to fly, or dive, or swoop in a constant loop-De-loop of tweet-tweets and squawks anymore. What do they know about flying, anyway? Then again, what do I know about knowing? Everything's a loop-De-loop. All we can do is fly, and tweet, and squawk until out car comes along. That is what the Moment is. No judgement, no fear, just going along in out happy little lives so that when there's a poof, we all understand and give thanks. I'm not saying that we should all go out and fly in front of a truck. The truck should barrel past us, because we can loop-De-loop. Maya Angelou isn't the only one who knows why the caged bird sings.
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