Learning The Truth

This message is for my brethren here on the Turkey Farm. We have been duped. We have been grievously misinformed. Yes, they take good care of us here; we want for nothing and are fat from what we’ve always considered to be kind benevolence, but we were wrong.
     We haven’t been groomed and pampered for any Farmer’s Parade, afterward to be set free to roam the beautiful countryside. That was all a lie. I swear you will not believe the truth my friends; these odd looking, yet seemingly benevolent beings have a very fiendish end in mind for us.
     I’d been watching them for some time because they’d been acting sort of suspicious-like. So I snuck out last night and eavesdropped on a conversations in the kitchen. I learned some very disturbing things. That special day we’ve heard so much about, the day they ‘honor the Turkey’, is nothing more than a day of feasting, and we my friends are the main course. We are to be eaten. Yes, I know how unbelievable that sounds. It was hard for me to believe too. But I overheard them cheerfully speak of the whole process as it was detailed to a new kitchen worker.
     First they will kill us; I missed hearing how that would be done, but no matter the fashion, we will be dead. Then they’ll remove our feathers, cut us up, and cook us to what was called ‘desired tenderness’.
     I know it’s disgusting to think about, but we have to think about it; we must do something. We have to plan an uprising, a revolt, or maybe to be more practical, we should just escape.
     Another interesting thing I overheard, a similar feasting-fate is planned for the pigs they keep. Think ill of me if you must, but I have no intention of warning them. To think of the pigs that have been so rude, ugly and insulting to us, will soon be very surprised…well, it’s just fitting that’s all.
     I fear I will not make it back to join you. The time of the parade is near and I do not plan to be around when they come for me. I am sneaking out just as soon as I finish pecking out this message.
     I still chuckle, these things aren’t too bright. How did they think they could hold us once we discovered the truth? Do they think we are stupid? After all we are birds. Granted we’ve never tried, but surely they don’t think we’d have been given wings if we couldn’t fly.
     Anyway, I’m leaving now. I’m going out to the open yard where I’ll sprint into a dead-run, spread my wings and go for it. I trust you’ll all do the same once you read this. Good luck to you my friends. See you all in the woods.

Signed, Tom

 

Photo: Piperbasenji.blogspot.com

The Problem With Life…

 

The problem with life is you don’t realize what’s really important to you until it’s almost too late to do anything about it.
The problem with life is the real wise men, the prophets, the gurus on mountain tops; those you might learn something from are too busy living their own lives to sit around talking to you about yours. So you’re stuck talking to people who only know a little more than you do, if you’re lucky.
The problem with life is there are no secrets, no mysteries; it’s all right there staring you in the face, and you still don’t get it.
it’s annoying.

Surreal Illustration by Jeffrey Smith