|
Chimpanzee
I am a chimpanzee. You are a human. Would you like to be a chimpanzee? There are perks to being a chimp, but none of them I get to enjoy. My tree branches are iron bars, my forest floor is old newspaper. The hairless gorillas adorned in white have kept me captive in this cage my whole life. Do you still wish to be a chimpanzee? What’s that? Yes, but just not this one? Oh so you would like to have your cake and eat it too. I dare you to swap lives with me, if just for a day. You will understand how fate dealt me the worst hand: my mother was pregnant with me when the humans entered the tropical rainforest, armed to the teeth with tranquilizers and metal cages. When a chimpanzee sees or hears a threat, our instinct tells us to scamper up the nearest tree. My mother was too slow. Understandably I was a heavy burden at the time, taking advantage of my final weeks in the womb before time forces me to abandon my warm slumber and face the world. Eventually I came into being, but not in the setting I was genetically predisposed for. “Born in captivity” is what my tag says. Well I’ll have you know that I may have been born in captivity, but I was concieved in nature, and this is a fact that helps me put things in perspective in times of extreme stress.
Perhaps you feel sorry for me. Perhaps from my cold and indifferent demeanor you have assumed that I have surrendered to this cruel twist of fate, and have learned to deal with it. Or perhaps, you think that since I have never known freedom, I do not know what I am missing and therefore I must be content with living in captivity. You may think all these things, but frankly I don’t care about what you make of me; none of your simple explanations for the way I function could capture the essence of me. You find me pompous? Well I find you human. Oh and one more thing, the last thing I want from you, as I tell you my story, is your pity.
|