I saw that squirrel again. Actually I went back for it. Decaying. Lifelessness has become its virtue. It's somewhere else in soul. Maybe I took some of it and therefore am attracted to it every moment. Maybe the tiny bit of its soul that's stuck in my body is crying every moment or struggling to adjust to its new body.
Whatever, it has become a thought. A repugnant one and yet I dream of it, the images flash in my head, reminding me of the time I held it in my hands and put it beside the main road, where a car had run over it, leaving it lifeless. I pause and think, what are the chances of a squirell crossing a fairly narrow inner road at 7:00 in the morning and a car passing over it. Makes me think, did she choose her death? Did she make that choice and plan it that way? Was it destined for her? Was it the best configuration for it to make its last transition.
In it's last few breaths, I felt like it was in a trauma more than it was hurt. Of course its body had been crushed from within, but it's soul took some time to break into pieces. While it took it's time to, I stood there, caressing it, trying to comfort it and convey oneness and empathy. As it let itself free, it's mouth opened a little and there it was, free, devoid of the worldly troubles, one with the better world. I worried for it for some time and was comforted by the others that I let its body be used for better and worldly causes, thus fulfilling my biological duties towards the world. I was convinced now that life existed beyond this state of imagination and electrical signals which impart to all of us, a sense of social being.