The more you try to get your head in the books, the less likely you are to do so. This is a global phnomenon. But it is not funny. People feel wrecked when they realise that their ability to concentrate equals that of a hamster. Conformity acts an analgesic, they revel in being a part of the masses. Some try killing themselves. Worse, some start listening to pop music.
An equally global phenomenon is love. And it is inherently funny. Inherent interspecial funniness.
While trying to control the former global phenomenon, I caught the glimpse of a pair of pigeons outside, doing silly stuff. They were perched atop a narrow ledge, but it seemed a skating rink, from what I got from their antics. There was no stopping to their goofiness. I, in the meanwhile, picked up my camera, and deftly made a move outside. I could've even afforded to be a little loud, for they were freaked out with their own selves.
Seeing their bodies bend and twist and contort and flip was an amusing sight.
And then one of them perched atop the other one. They were in the process of mating. The whole show was a display of affection, a sign of possession. Lovers. Idiots.
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