A random, disorganized thought

A frog erupted from beneath the ground on which you were standing.

One day a flock of parrots took to the sky with their wings outstretched like they were embracing the skies. They flew for ever. They did not stop. Then one day they realized they had reached the place they were looking for. It was not an illusion. It was for real.

They had climbed above the sky. They were above all other kinds of life. Here they saw the sun in all of its splendid yellow.

But no one went blind.

It was not like when Icarus flew too close to the Sun. This was different. They could feel the euphoria; they could sense that going too high would eventually lead to their brains getting saturated.

But they climbed further. Even further so they could not come back down. Half the flock was in autopilot mode. They were determined to find the fruit. It was not far away. It was an open bowl of happiness waiting to receive them. Like a jet stream they would float across the skies and slowly sublime into the surroundings.

When the sun sets everyday we see the colors of the sun. The sun spreads her long tangles of hair in every direction. In those rays of live sunlight are the feathers of the flock of parrots that flew beyond the horizon several thousand years ago.

We see them everyday. They are always there.

Edapally in the evening.

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