Said the little Birdy

It's quite an ordinary day today, listen to channel V or Max, eat breakfast, do a little exercise, check my to do list and then I see it.  A dead bird. How did I know it was dead? Anyone can spot it, they all die the same and in the same position. Stiff, and the legs a little crooked, and the eyes look desolate, there is no life there anymore. If it weren't for my errand to water my dad's plants today I wouldn't have seen it. I stood stock still, unaware how much shock I received from this small sight. It isn't the first time I have seen this and maybe that is what it was, my mind replaying all the birds I tried to help during my childhood up to now, every single one dying on me cause they wouldn't feed or take the water I gave, even when i mashed up a worm or some grains for them. I kept them warm and yet they all had become what I saw now.
My day took a slight turn in events when I thought I'll get dressed and bury this little birdy. I didn't grow attached to this bird but I didn't want it to become cat food. I didn't know how it died, why didn't it fly to security. Either way without much thought in the process I got dressed silently, I got a box silently and I put it in the box and then dug silently. I just kept digging without much thought and then I put the box in the earth and covered it up with a couple of lasting pats and I walked back and started exercising again like nothing happened.
Is that what people do? They go through the processes that are necessary with no thought so it may be a little easier. That is what I figured, then I wondered about murderers, even serial killers is that how they act?
A life is a life isn't it? Wouldn't the process have more repercussions rather than a prison sentence in the end? They can't be that used to a process that seems unnatural. These were my little wonderings, said the little birdy.

It all started with do you remember...

what is truth when we try so damn hard to conceal it, we chuck piles of layers making it seem more complicated than it probably is. Who really wants the truth, the raw form...beautiful. But true beauty always has a sting to it. Can you trust that truth? Who wants it? No one,  either they can't be bothered to dig and get dirty to get to the bottom of things or they really just don't want to hear it.
We take the truth and we contort it so it is incomprehensible not only to others but to ourselves, we take the little black ball or mess and put it in a black box, that then is put in a coffin, that coffin is locked and welded just for good measure, that coffin is placed deep in the ground and then you fill the lot and leave. You don't look back on it, it never happened. So why would you want the truth if you've gone to all that trouble to hide it. Why would anyone else want it?

Again another ramble :) I don't know why, or what it provides to y'all. don't think it makes sense anyway haha.