Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!
Fate of the Teddy Bear

I'm looking at a ceramic rooster perched on the edge of my computer, and it looks rather content. It's glossy little beak gleams with contentment (or maybe it's the florescent lights) and it's tiny eyes are closed blissfully. Although it's an inanimate being, I wonder if things like that can think. What if they could? Imagine that. The stuffed animals that you cuddle with at night are cognizant. That little teddy bear probably doesn't like being squashed beneath the heavy load of a hundred-some pound person, but perhaps feels as if it's his duty to bear the weight of discomfort. He is, after all, born and raised under the notion that he exists solely for the pleasure of the party who owns him.


Poetry
Thoughts
Essays and Such
Raps, Yo
Sketches
My New Language
Pictures