It hurts. The way I am being used. I feel gross, reeking of the smell of sweat.
The other day, my owner dressed me weird, trying to funk up his look.
I’ve got the worst owner in the world.
I am trampled with. I stampede things. I tread on paths. I step on people,things, everything. But never have I done these by my own volition.
I have decided today ,to run away.
You look at me weird. Think of me weird. You wonder “how can he run away?”. I like to think that I am male. Of course, I am male. My owner is male too. Maybe tomorrow, once I run away, I’ll run to a female owner and become female in turn.
However, you don’t know how it feels to be in my shoes. No, not my shoes. But the shoes of my owner. Big, stinking, smelly shoes.
Its killing. Now you know why I plan to run away.
About my plan to run away
I have a plan in mind. It isn’t the easiest but it just might work. I intend to run away when Owner is standing, completely unawares. Perhaps, when he is using his hands or mouth or eyes. I intend to run with all my might- away from the many ill treatment.
I have been hit a couple of times, for wrongs I didn’t commit. I have been broken, stretched beyond my limit and even forced to grow muscles. I have felt pain, time and over again.
I intend to run from this pain with all the strength I’ve got. If you see Owner, do not tell him of my plan.😯
Today is the day I run
Owner is standing at the kitchen sink,doing the dishes with both of his hands at work, using his eyes in its sight-giving function. I decide, it is time. TO RUN.
I start running, running with every fiber of strength in me. Running like the athlete- Bolts. I run with speed and intensity; strength and might. But I don’t get anywhere. Owner is still standing at the sink, doing the dishes
I think the running has all been in my mind.
I try to run again, but to no avail. I then remember. The things I’ve always done, have never been voluntary- either reflex or commanded.
I’ve never had a say. This was why I wanted to run away. But I could not. For my volition did not lie with myself but with my owner. Owner indeed owned me.
I was a very important part of him and if indeed I did run, I’d be running a lie.
I allow him to drag me out of the kitchen.
For realization has dawned on me.
After all, I am his legs.
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