Deeply Thinking Seagulls: Part 3

Once in a while,* I get caught in this cyclical pattern of existential pondering. It vacillates between - at worst - bemusement at the foolish joke us seagulls know as "life," and - at best - a deep reverence for the sensations of interconnectedness that wash over me like so many droplets of the vast ocean I call my home.** And between these inexorable trail ends that mark the path of consciousness for all higher beings, I fill in the gaps with the actions I suppose are expected of me. And I'm becoming increasingly aware that therein lies the evidence supporting a more dismal perspective. To wit: I fly. I eat. I poop. I fly. I eat. I poop. I FLY. I EAT. I POOP. I FLY!!! I EAT!!! I POOP!!!!!

Sometimes I want to kill myself.


*I refer (of course) to a seagull 'while,' not a human 'while,' which is (quite unjustly) five times (or more!) longer on average.
**It's possible I am the only creature to be comforted by his home in such an active manner! ;)