This really speaks to me

I'm Mama, but I'm still me...

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She wakes up everyday loathing the sun and wishing death upon the birds. How dare they be so happy and delighted to embrace the day? Don’t they feel like their tiny lives are insignificant, too? Don’t they feel like the sun burns their soul and causes the hollowness to reverberate an energy of hate?

She hates birds. They are everything she isn’t. Happy and content in their lives. They fly without abandon to wherever they want to go, at whatever time they want to go there and are only worried about how many worms they might find that day.

She is envious. She then gets mad at herself for being envious. Isn’t that a sin? Isn’t it also stupid to be jealous of a bird? A bird with hardly a brain and a lifespan of a month or so. Ah, that’s the ultimate reason, she thinks. The reason to hate…

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