My mother loves keeping chicken! I hate them. The only time I like them is when they are cooked, on my plate and ready to be eaten. I have tried telling myself that if I do not take care of them, then where will the meat and eggs come from?

It does not make me feel better about having to clean their shit (they shit everywhere!)  Or have to change their water and walk to the shops when I don’t feel like to get their food!

Furthermore, my mom had all her chicken die- not once or twice! Still, she insists on keeping them!

I don’t understand how you can watch all your animals(who you have reared with utmost care) perish in front of your very eyes only for you to go and get more who die again and again!

I have to admit that when business is good, they bring in a lot of cash! However, when they die, they DIE! I love animals. I just do not like it when they die on me! It kills me inside.

I do not know where mama gets the urge to rear more and more chicken! I guess it has a lot to do with believing. In addition, I realized that it is okay not to have to believe in what she believes. I believe in my own things. Things like writing repeatedly to get a thing right, auditioning and losing over and over till I land a role. That sort of thing. I do not believe in chicken. Mama does. I do not have to agree with her or anything. I can only respect their choices, help if I can and follow my own path.

Journal: Oct.26.2020
Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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