When I was a child (8 or 9), I was walking across our cement patio into our house. I had a weird habit of looking at the ground when I walked, and thats when I saw it. Dead baby squirrel. I screamed and hopped over it. Then turned around and stared at it closely. We lived in the suburbs but this wasnt my first time seeing a dead animal, as we lived next to a creek. Rotting things I had seen before. The baby squirrel let out s breath. I called my mom to help. She surmised it must have fallen from its nest, that its body was broken and it was going to die. She was right, it was too hurt to even move. She helped me move it to a pine tree behind my house. I sat with it so it wouldnt be alone for a while, then I let it be to die in peace. Damien Hurst tries to mass market experiences of death to those that have never experienced it I think. Much of his stuff looks like a boy dicking around in a science lab, making shit he thinks is interesting, but never grasping its deeper meaning. But as long as you buy into it. Whatever.
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 05:01:35 +0000
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