They have done it. The little birds have taken flight out of here. The nest is empty, though not nearly as empty as my heart, since there are still bits of feathers, feces, and trash in there. In the nest, I mean. There are no feathers or feces in my heart, as far as I know. I asked my doctor and he just looked at me in disgust and scribbled in his notepad. I took a peek at his scribblings: "please go skills me Wht won't he stop om here eying." I'll have to google all that medical jargon.
Basically, life is without meaning. The lesson to be learned here is that, contrary to all my expectations, no matter how much, or how lovingly, how pathetically, you blog about something, it probably won't blog you back or reblog your blogs or even hit that like button on its tiny Facebook from its little computer made out of bits of grass and branches and leaves and, probably, reinforced steel. I dunno. Bird engineering is weird.