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About Me Birdies from Avant-garde Philosophy 2

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Author Topic: About Me Birdies from Avant-garde Philosophy 2  (Read 639 times)
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« on: January 18, 2009, 02:49:46 pm »
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From: Omnipotent888__ Sent: 12/23/2005 4:53 PM


I only found 3 typos in my first post, not bad  the first one was writing "eat" instead of "ate"....the second one was, but left it as it is should have been, but left it as it "was"  and "occupations" shouldn't have the S on the end.
post # 2, first typo is in the first line and now I am too scared to read the rest....


One of my friends emailed me and said they feel lonely. I feel lonely and I know it was the chicken’s death that set me off. I read a few jokes but they didn’t liven me up. When I don’t have anymore birds, I’m not going to replace them. I’ve always loved birds, all sorts of birds. When I was a child, mother would take us down to the river in winter to feed the seagulls, stale bread. We always had a supply of stale bread. My grandfather owned a bakery but he died when I was 10 from a melanoma on his back and then spread through his body….I used to break up the bread and throw it to the seagulls…..this also attracted the gulls that were on the other side of the very, very wide river….The Swan River….I used to stress out that not all the seagulls would get some. I wanted every seagull to have a bit of stale bread as it was winter and cold and they all acted like they were starving as the squabbled over the tiny pieces of bread. I also love that I could command these wild birds to me.

I’m very talented when it comes to training birds. They have always instinctively fallen in love with me…..lol, they must know I like them and want them to be happy. I so admire birds.

I wrote a poem about an eagle when I was fourteen. Our Advance English teacher read us a story about 2 pilots who accidentally killed an eagle so they landed the aeroplane to found the eagle….they buried it and paid homage to the animal who was king of the sky. The teacher gave me 10/10 for it and read it out to the class, later when I was 16 I wrote many more verses but this is all the teacher got to see…..her name was Mrs Rankin [sp?]….. My Poem went like this,

The Eagle

The Eagle spreads his mighty wings

And falls to the ground and with him brings

A terrifying cry, a painful, dying sound.

The poem was apt to the story the teacher read and she got the whole class to write a poem based on the story about the eagle being hit by the plane but she liked mine the best so that’s why she was impressed, I guess. I also remember an older girl taunting me about it saying I copied it. Obviously the older girl had no talent and couldn’t recognize it in other people.

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