What, or Who Do We Save?
July 11, 2018

Today I met a little bird when I walked to my workplace. The bird was hurt. Its wing was bleeding on the end of its arm. On first glance I thought little bird was taking a rest from a tire journey. It wasn’t just resting, it wounded. Little bird sat alone, looking through its right and its left, perhaps waiting for any help.
Today was my first time seeing with my own two eyes, a little bird didn’t fly away when I passed by. Sudden flashes of images of fictional princesses tending a bird’s wound flooded my head. However, I realized they are just cartoons. Princesses wrap bandages around bird’s wing, that’s just too ridiculous. If I was doing as seen on the screen, I would make little bird cannot fly forever. Bandages would have heal its wounds, yes, but who will remove and replace the bandage once it must be disposed?
Then, on the span of one and half minute, I concluded I cannot help little bird. It needs to help itself. If I brought it home, tend it, feed it, and clean it shits, mother would have not approve. I cannot free myself like a bird free itself from a cage. I envy the bird. Little bird has the freedom I could ever dream of. Then, how could I help it? How could I help any bird, or anyone, from the pain, sorrow, loneliness, darkness, and any other things that can do harm, If I could not help myself first?
Then, I left the little bird. Sorry, buddy.
