Ducks, Bread, and The Existential Crisis Generated By The Human Condition

Me ( Writing )
Stranger ( Writing )

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"Moo," said the duck, and then the red sea parted, and he waddled on over to the other side.

'Do I even control what I do, think, say or feel?' Thought the duck. He knew not, for he was a simple duck. 

The duck was eating the food thrown at him, wondering why it was never enough to satisfy him. As long as the duck followed the ritualistic behaviors that were normalized by the other ducks, he would find comfort in conformity.

'Perhaps he was a God' the duck pondered 'Jesus the son of God had fed the people with a single loaf of bread, perhaps they were returning the favor' The duck decided that more testing would be needed.

Flapping his wings like the elegant bird he was, the duck began the search in testing his powers.

There were no more ducks

There was no more energy

Nothing could happen

The universe meant no more or no less though

There was no ultimate purpose for the duck's existence

Everything was a predetermined event decided by the results of the last instance

The ducks were just another piece 

With no greater significance 

The duck screeched out at the universe "What does this all mean, is my existence just a joke that I am to live?" The universe did not reply. For the duck was alone. Sitting in his little pond, and looking up at the sky.

Limited by the constraints of the duck brain, the conscious duck was merely a puppet. Then, the human looked at the duck, and dismissed it for a less than intelligent life form, though does it really matter how aware and organism really is? We are all cursed with enough intelligence to see into our own roose. Though, the duck luckily wouldn't on realistic terms. Maybe we are the damned due to our intelligence. Too much, yet so little. There is no way to cope with the human condition for those who look too far. 

The human brain can only comprehend so much, that if we were to view something bigger than ourselves the knowledge would melt our understanding of reality and leave us in the puddle of insanity, with the indescribable knowledge of what life really was. For the duck, however, life was of bread and the pond, and nothing more. And the duck, in all his duck-like knowledge, was content.

The human was busy Taking in too much information way too quickly, so they were rather distressed. And they gave it all they had. The duck noticing the lack in steady bread flow, angrily honked, for his reality was being disrupt by this human's thoughts.

The duck could eat, the human stepped off the pedestal.The human decided to play their own game until the end. Shaking their fist at the nature of their existence was futile.

The human could find peace
The duck could find more bread

And life would go on

That concludes this short story

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