They are small things. And how ugly and wild and blissful they are! Scampering through backyards, eating beetles and weeds, identical heads bent back laughing with reckless abandon.
But, at times, they are sad. In these moments, resting beneath a wilting mushroom, they feel lonely. “We have each other,” they say, but in their hearts they wish for more. They want someone to tell them that they are wonderful, someone who is different from them. “What good is it for someone exactly just like you to love you? Are they not just in love with themselves?”–they whisper.
Then the moment passes. They are scampering again, up and down the grassy floor, laughing and laughing and laughing. For these creatures are just like us: they rise and fall, and sometimes sink low and yearn to be what they are not. But they are also resilient, and they learn to reimagine and accept, and one way or another find their way back to life.