Crazy, Stupid Owl
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| When you got the proper glove on but it lands on your arm instead |
I feel like this should be a somewhat poetic post or something that resonates with you but really I just wanted to write a post about how much I love owls. I could pretend to be a better blogger by then delving deep into the philosophy behind this feeling; Is it because I love the way their soft feathers brush against my skin even though I cannot myself touch them? Or does it go even deeper and draws a connection with how I love the moonlight and how mysterious it can be?
Nope, I just love owls because they’re stupid.
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