This is my best friend Piggy wearing my Stetson hat. Ha, isn’t he silly?
I had another best friend when I was a child, he was called David Granham. I once told him that inanimate objects had feelings. The next day he came to me, all mad, saying he’d talked to his parents and I’d lied to him and inanimate objects didn’t having feelings at all. I didn’t agree. I knew, technically, toys and rocks and balls didn’t have life, but I knew at the same time humans projected their own feelings onto objects, just the same as they project their own feelings onto animals and other people. They personify and distort everything, regardless, and they were so corrupt that saying your dog loved you was the same thing as saying your TV loved you, or your grandmother loved you, or your god loved you. It was all free interpretation, based on what you believed through your constantly distorted perceptions and beliefs. Maybe your mother didn’t love you, but she said she did. Maybe your favorite slingshot was your best friend, but it never said so. You had emotions, and you shared them; sometimes with a friend, and sometimes with a bird on your window sill. Being seven years old at the time I couldn’t articulate this very well, so I just said he was very stupid, with such force that the conversation stopped there.
Anyway, this is my best friend piggy wearing my Stetson hat. Oh, what a card!
I had another best friend when I was a child, he was called David Granham. I once told him that inanimate objects had feelings. The next day he came to me, all mad, saying he’d talked to his parents and I’d lied to him and inanimate objects didn’t having feelings at all. I didn’t agree. I knew, technically, toys and rocks and balls didn’t have life, but I knew at the same time humans projected their own feelings onto objects, just the same as they project their own feelings onto animals and other people. They personify and distort everything, regardless, and they were so corrupt that saying your dog loved you was the same thing as saying your TV loved you, or your grandmother loved you, or your god loved you. It was all free interpretation, based on what you believed through your constantly distorted perceptions and beliefs. Maybe your mother didn’t love you, but she said she did. Maybe your favorite slingshot was your best friend, but it never said so. You had emotions, and you shared them; sometimes with a friend, and sometimes with a bird on your window sill. Being seven years old at the time I couldn’t articulate this very well, so I just said he was very stupid, with such force that the conversation stopped there.
Anyway, this is my best friend piggy wearing my Stetson hat. Oh, what a card!
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