I am a bird. I am soaring high above the Earth and I can see everything. Up here I am in complete control. Nothing can touch me and no one can bother me. The sky is like my own little sanctuary. During my flight I come to the realization that I can do anything I want. I could literally be a “fly on the wall” for the most intimate conversations. So, I fly down to a random house in the middle of Arizona and perch on their windowsill. There is a little bit of arguing and then a woman comes rushing into the room. She slams the door shut. I watch as she falls into her bed and begins crying. She is hyperventilating as well as pounding her fists repeatedly into the pillows beside her. I feel empathetic, staring in at her from my little spot.
“I can’t handle this much longer,” she finally screams. She is physically releasing emotion into the air around her. I can feel it like it’s static electricity gliding across my feathers. I squawk at her but she can’t hear me through her screaming. I want to help. I need to help. What if she does something unintelligent? What if she tries to kill herself? I start flapping my wings incessantly, attempting to get her attention. The form of the bird once felt free but now I only feel trapped. I cannot save her. I cannot escape from the inside of my prison. I cannot help my fellow human being because I am not a human being right now. I am a bird. A bird with the ability to be human, but physically cannot be.
And then I woke up.