In my life I have learned more than I could put into words.  I hope that through this depiction of my life, through the metaphors and ideas; that you can see who I really am. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Iroquois Park was the state capital of the squirreling community.  Specifically a clan that housed a very peculiar squirrel, whose name was Stan.  Stan was an oddly proportioned squirrel.  Most squirrels’ bodies are long and their heads may be a third of the length of their body.  Well Stan had an irregularly large head, and the top of it formed a perfect arch.  He was unnaturally small.  Actually his head was not much larger than his body.  He was half head, half body.  His tail has been in an awkward state since his last encounter with a human.  Stan had been swimming for the day in an unknown substance from a glass bottle.  The night was hot and he needed to cool off.  A nearby pack of humans approached him from behind.  Poor Stan didn’t see it coming as one of the human’s had a lighter, igniting a stick and threw it into the puddle.  Unfortunately for Stan, he was bathing in beer; bursting into flames Stan ran amuck throughout the park until he doused in the lake.  This is still fresh in his mind and is best left alone.

 He stays at a nest separate from his community.  Here, he can do as he wishes.  The usual day consisted of gathering walnuts, building leaf statues, thinking, sleeping, and harassing unaware female squirrels. 

In his squirrel community, there was a set of laws that was established to preserve squirrel happiness.  These laws were:

1.      All squirrels must speak in rhyme, with the exception of the King.

2.      Always respect the King.

3.      Never answer the King with a question.

4.      Do not stand up against the King.

5.      Do nothing to harm the King in any way.

6.      Do not vandalize the King’s property, nor the King himself.

7.      Squirrels can only say positive things.

8.      Do not mock the King.

9.      No more lynching of albino squirrels.

10.  No name calling.

Though Stan did not know it yet, he would soon be guilty of breaking all but law 9 (thankfully) that very day. 

A graduation ceremony was held for all those squirrels that have taken walnut gathering lessons.  Stan took part of this in hopes to gain favor in the eyes of the ladies.  Stan aced the class and was looking forward to the ceremony.  Ready to go, Stan left his nest and scampered to the Kings Grounds. 

---Song, “My Country Tis of Thee” Jingle—

The crowd goes wild as the singer scampered off the stage.  A mellow gray squirrel limped onto the podium.  He had an air of a proud, wise, king.  “Squeak!  Good Morning graduates!  I’m proud to say that you can finally go acorn hunting!  To some, this seems trivial, but this is an art!  And acorns are the tools to our art!  Now go and get some nuts!”  Thousands of squirrels pumped their arms and scatter out of the expansive oak tree.  The oak was the largest in the park and was revered by humans as very photogenic.  To the squirrels it was a column of massive gold, the deep ridges in the bark were considered a delight and genuine display of ancient history.

Stan has been noted to be the clumsiest squirrel in existence.  He was to busy staring at Karen to realize that he was aimlessly walking about.  By the time he fell from the tree it was too late.  Stan cratered into a pile of poop, splattering the surrounding squirrels.  “Eeeeewww what can Stan do?  Fall in Poo!” chanted the on looking graduates.  The hot humid day choked the air, causing the pile of poop to decompose at a higher rate.  Flies had already begun to feast on the tasty treat. 

“NUTS!” screamed Stan, all the squirrels in ear shot froze.  Silence so piercing dragged out the next several seconds as the King came down the tree and into the middle of the crowd where Stan was given plenty of stink space.  The reeking fumes overwhelmed the King, putting him into sporadic convulsions.  After a minute, he gets back onto his feet, this time allowing a little more room between himself and the pile of dung.  Stan remained in the poop, not seeming to want to leave his protection. 

“Stan!  Did you just curse our most treasured symbol?” the King’s attempt to carry authority in his voice was feeble, sounding more like a dying cat.  “Let’s review, I fell into crap, I have crap in my mouth, in my ears, matted in my hair, and in places I don’t even want to think about!  A slip of the tongue is not that important, especially in this situation.”  The squirrels gasped, speaking out of rhyme was strictly forbidden.  Though no one knew why the King enforced such a ridiculous law, no one questioned him.  It was rumored that the King could spit acid in your eyes.  This was enough for everyone to avoid eye contact and breaking of any laws. 

“You mock my law by speaking out of rhyme?  What is the cause of such blasphemy?”  The old squirrel passed out due to heat exhaustion.  The King usually sat in his nest where shade provided some relief from the drought.  A couple of squirrels rushed to his side and began to fan his face.  Stan was the first squirrel; ever stand up to the King.

“You want to see blasphemy?  Look at this!” and Stan directed his bottom to the target and landed with precision of a worthy marksman.  The King’s servants immediately began licking the feces off his body; “This is so gross!” yelled one of the servants.

“So, what now?  Are you going to pass over to Squirrel heaven?  That’s more of a benefit than anything; who knows what everyone here really wants to say!  Why don’t you humor me a bit and go into another shock attack?”  The mockery was taken so harshly that the poor little squirrel didn’t realize his situation before he was whisked away by the ocean of raging squirrels.  “Condemn Stan man, condemn Stan man!”  Their lack for a better word to rhyme with Stan was the most embarrassing thing that Stan had ever dealt with.  The squirrels carried him to the highest supporting branch and out as far as possible until they were over the black top.  “Road Kill!” jeered the squirrels.

“Stan, your misdemeanors are worthy of capital punishment.  You will be tossed off the branch and onto the Road of Death,” the King passed out again due to his excitement.  The last time they killed a squirrel was when he was young.  Back in that day they lynched the albinos.  The squirrels immediately tossed Stan, without giving him a chance to testify.  The little squirrel was hurled into the middle of the road.

The squirrel laid unconscious for ten seconds and recovered.  The sun had hardly moved, and all the squirrels were off beginning their nut gathering adventure.  Squirrels are high speed creatures.  Everything is done in seconds; anything that takes longer than a minute is far too long, as if a day has gone by for humans.  Even squirrel’s sleep follow this pattern at the longest, a sleep may last fifteen minutes.  A day for a squirrel is like a month for a human.

Already used to this, Stan has always been shunned from squirrel communities, never like this though.  He was fortunate enough to land on the central curb, out of harms way.  Monstrous vehicles flew by, slip streams pulling Stan in all directions.  The purpose was for the squirrel being executed to become so disoriented by the vehicles and the winds that he/she will inevitably stumble into the Black and be crushed.  The Black always brought death to those who came onto it.  The curse has never been broken before.  Stan could feel the impending pressure of the curse building, tearing him in so many directions.  Colors blended together, burning his eyes.  No longer did Stan understand up from down.  He was going to die if he kept moving.  In desperate attempt Stan fought his natural impulses and clung to the curb beneath him.  He refused to move.  He will live as long as he didn’t move into the Black.  The sun burned, as did the curb also.  It seemed the Black was doing everything it could to kill Stan.  If Stan wasn’t going to move then the Black would force him to by cooking him to the point of suicide.  Unable to resist any longer Stan fell into darkness.  He knew he didn’t move, so he couldn’t have been taken by the Black, but all he saw was black. 

Cops closed off New Cut Rd, putting up barricades and detour signs.  No one bothered to tend to the squirrel in the middle of New Cut Rd, assuming it was hit by a car.  Besides it was Derby and people had better things to do like get drunk and party.  Nothing like getting drunk over horses, what a thrill!

The darkness gave to light and the world around him seemed to be still.  He was still on the curb, still being cooked, but there were no flash of colors, no winds, nothing.  Blue and red lights filled the air around him and people milled around the Black, but there were no monsters on it.  This was so strange to Stan, could this be a trap?  Was the Black hiding, waiting for Stan to step out?  Life seemed bleak now, either way he goes, he was going to die.  So Stan, with the intent to end it quickly, walked out on the Black.  Eyes closed he kept on walking, waiting for the sensation of death, whatever it was.  As he walked he wondered if he has already been crushed, probably, who knew, maybe the swift death prevented any pain or awareness of death.  But this ended quickly as he walked into a barrier, rough to the feel.  He opened his eyes and saw the roadside curb.  Above that laid the Kings Grounds.  He was alive!  He didn’t understand this, but the Black found favor of Stan and allowed him passage!  Oh what a blessing this was! 

“Dang-it!  How did he make it across!?” shouted a servant of the king.  All the servants began to boo Stan.  “Alright let’s not rouse the community and start a riot.  Don’t mention this to anyone!  Nothing here to see, just go on with your routines servants!”

The beautiful park no longer had the same rustle of leaves.  No longer did the sound of birds soaring and singing songs of love prick Stan’s ears.  Stan saw no bright greens, no brown bark; the soaring dirt didn’t exhilarate freedom in him any more.  Unable to keep a single grain of happiness, Stan tittered back to his nest, the only home he had.  No one awaited him there.  Climbing into his nest, Stan arranged his bed and went into a restless sleep.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A boy and girl walked hand in hand through the woods, searching for the perfect tree.  The sun warmed their upturned faces as they smiled, checking out the tree they chose.  They pulled out a spray paint can and painted a heart with their initials in the center.  This paint has lethal components that squirrels are affected by, and poor Stan, his tree was the tree they spray painted.  The fumes carried into his nest.  It is said that inhaling spray paint will open their souls to spiritual abduction.

*                                              *                                              *                                 

Poor old Stan woke up, not realizing what happened, assuming that he was a bird, he leapt out of his nest.  Instead of flying he fell to the ground.  Unaffected, Stan was strangely happy, so happy, that he had forgotten his banishment.  Everything was in wild colors and moved sporadically.  Stan suddenly had an epiphany, he will overthrow the King, though unsure how, he proceeded to the Kings Grounds.  No longer than three minutes later he was climbing up the Royal Oak.  “HEY!  Come out and fight me you geezer!”  Stan waited at the hole of the Kings nest, waiting…waiting…waiting…

“Hold on!  I can’t get up!  I think I broke my back!” cried the King.  Stan mocked the King of this as the King finally showed at the hole.  “You dare challenge my position peasant?  Then you shall meet my son, Daisy.”

“Daisy!?  HAHAHAHAHAHA your son is a girl!  You know I really like flowers, can I smell the daisy?  I want to hold the daisy, pet the daisy, and eat the daisy…”

The King’s stare went acidic, never has he had anyone insult his son’s birth name.  This was treason!  The King liked the name Daisy, “Meet me down at the grounds Stan.  You shall meet Daisy.”

            “Yay!” with a hop he was down the tree and on the ground.  He began running a circle around the poop he fell into earlier.  Faster and faster, causing the grass to be torn from the ground and forming a circle around the manure.  Stan then stopped running and bowed to the poop outside of the circle.  “Oh King, you smell better than usual!  What have you done?  And you look younger!”  Catching the attention of the surrounding community of squirrels, they gathered around this spectacle.  Laughing they watched Stan begin to fan the poop and called the flies the servants.  “ALRIGHT!”  With an authority never heard before the King brought everyone to a silence.  Unaware or uncaring Stan continued in his interaction with the crap.  “You know King; I never knew you felt this way about me.  We should go to the Black; he really likes me you know.”

            “STAN!”

            “Huh?  What?!  You shouldn’t interrupt my conversation with you, it’s rude.”

            “THAT’S IT!  I am through with your antiques!  Daisy I want you to poke out his right eye.”  The largest squirrel that the community, or a human for that matter, has ever seen, stomped past the King towards Stan.  Suddenly Stan went very still, standing up on his hind quarters he began to shake his shoulders.  Paling, his eyes turned milky white and began to cough.  The squirrels squealed and backed away as Stan did a hand stand and started to spin on his head.  Even Daisy flinched, his face paled and fear crept into his black beady eyes. 

            “Father, I think that maybe we should let him take the throne.  If he’s possessed I don’t want to be turned into a tutu,” the King turned to his son with an expression of dread.  Then he suddenly pitched forward, convulsing and singing Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” with his right leg kicking out and grabbing only where Michael grabbed so boldly.  All the squirrels gasped and stood back even further. 

            “Father!  Father!  Stan, stop!  Please, you can have the throne just stop!”  Finally the effects of the paint subsided and Stan stopped break dancing.  He dashed over to the King and kicked the Kings valuables.  The King immediately screamed and jumped back up.  “Stan!  Take my crown and let me be, I need to retire anyway.  You will be the death of me if I don’t.”  The King immediately took off the crown and tossed it to the ground, Daisy took him on his back and they both made haste.  Silence fallowed.  Every squirrel eye honed in on Stan.  Suddenly a roar so loud that nearby humans stopped to see what it was.  It was the squirrel community cheering with glee!  “Stan’s the man!” was the chant.  Stan went over and picked up the crown, he placed it on his big head.  “I must say that I did nothing to gain this crown, yet I will do everything in my new found position to allow freedom.  The only rule is that every girl must marry me!”

            Yup, that Stan, he was the greatest king to ever rule Iroquois Park, and will always be remembered”

            “Are you serious?”  The incredulous look on Katie’s faces made Stan panic. 

            “Why?  You asked me to tell you about myself!”  She huffed and stared at him, her dark golden eyes shone in the moonlight.  “Yeah well you told me a story Stan!  In the story you’re conceited, all the babes had to marry you?!  What are you implying?  Are you a pimp or something?  And a monarchy?!  You want to rule the world?!  You are weird and this date sucks!  The dinner was fantastic, but that was it.  You probably never had a girlfriend right?  Forget it, I am gone, I need to go and do my chores anyway.”  With that Katie turned and left Stan at the side of the lake.  It seemed that regardless of who he took out they always end up the wrong one.  The story had a point, had a meaning so deep that only the right one could derive the right meaning and understand Stan for who he really was.  He saw no point or depth in the whole question answer format that everyone else did.  The way Stan described himself in the story was not accurate at all, but symbolic.  Stan was really just a normal squirrel.  He did not have any odd proportions or a burned tail.  Nor was he a reject, the community at Iroquois loved him.  Friendly and fun to be around, everyone knew him by name and always welcomed him.  Allot didn’t understand him really, they try but Stan just can’t connect with others as he would like.

            Looking out across the lake he saw a human alone.  This was peculiar, not that the human was alone but the fact that it was dark out and that he was just sitting there alone.  Kind of reminded Stan of himself, alone, where no one could quite understand him.  He was a thinker, where he questioned the ways of his community and their practices.  But he didn’t know why this human was alone.  Usually at night humans engaged in mating rituals deep in the woods, behind trees, even up in trees.  They were allot like squirrels in this respect, though some seemed much younger than others.  This worried Stan.  Never has Stan had a good experience with a human.  One time Stan was with a couple of his friends Frank and Steve.  They decided to check out the parks expansive grounds and came to a tree next to a house.  The day was beautiful with the sun keeping things hot.  The house was full of humans, two smaller ones who were in front of a picture box, called the T.V.  The two smaller humans seemed lifeless, sitting and staring at this box.  This matter seemed weird to Stan, reminding him of his parents when they were killed by the Black.  Their eyes lifeless eyes…  In another window was the larger human, a female.  Most females are marked by the lengthiness of the hair on the head and the lack of hair on their limbs.  Stan has seen females with hairy limbs and even with deep voices.  This along with the rest scared Stan as well.  At least with squirrels male and females were quite distinct.

            This particular human was flailing, losing layers of skin so fast that he thought he was hallucinating.  This couldn’t be a snake!  But the layers fell as more layers fell.  Finally no more layers fell and the human exposed the insides, or that is what he could only assume.  What came next was unfathomable.  Stan and his buds were unaccustomed to storing your skin in walls and putting new one’s on.  This could only mean one thing.  “Were going to die aren’t we?” cried Steve.  He shook so bad that the branch broke from the tree.  After hitting the ground they dashed away, “RUN!  IT’S TOO LATE, WE LOOKED AWAY!  WE MUST WARN THE OTHERS!”

            Still alive, Stan remembers that day and will never look into another house, ever. 

“Stan!  Stan!” in a furry of spinning winds rushed Steve.  Eyes wide with excitement he exclaimed, “A seed has been planted!”  Together they rushed off towards the field.  Stan has learned that the community demands Stan’s attendance to anything they do.  Everyone always wants Stan to do this with them or go there with them, and go here for them.  They didn’t see him as a servant or a slave, but more as a squirrel of such reverence that if he were to decline the moral of the community would crumble!  In the field waited all the males of the community.  Gathered around the spot where the seed was planted.

            “Stan!  You’re here!  A human planted a seed, it smells like a tree.  Do you know what this means!?”

            “…growth for the community and more homes.  A tree hugger probably did this.  I haven’t heard of any possible construction on this land though.”  These occasions always worried Stan.  Where he was from there was nothing but trees, until monstrous steel beasts came and plowed down all the trees.  Stan was lucky, snatched by a hawk that had an eye to eat him.  Stan talked to the hawk and befriended him, a talent that Stan had.  When in a dangerous situation he could remain calm and work through the problem.  “Well Stan, what are you waiting for?  Do the honors!”  This was also an awkward thing, having a dozen male squirrels watching him do this was weird.  He hiked his leg and began to allow life flow into the seed.  The other squirrels took various posts and hiked their legs. 

            “You know this is very weird.  I have never seen another squirrel pee on a seed, let alone an entire community of male squirrels gathering to pee on a seed.  I mean, we are doing this…together.”

            “So?  What’s the problem Stan, we never have a problem peeing in public, you gotta go, you gotta go!” 

            “Yeah, well I don’t pee with another squirrel, I just watch.”  That brought silence among the other male squirrels.  They all stared at Stan now with a sense of caution.  “No!  I don’t really watch, I merely acknowledge the presence of a urinating squirrel!  It’s just an odd sight is all I am saying.”  All the squirrels breathed out with relief and continued in their labor.  “Yeah well carbon-monoxide is said to be the breath of trees and plants.  And humans claim that our urine provides this…carbon-monoxide.  We are being the good Samaritans and speeding up the process.”  John is the one who spoke these wise words, and Stan agreed.  Though this was strange, it was against the normal grain of this society and it did not go against any morals that he held important.  Though he was beginning to wonder just how much longer he could go on with this before he would be dehydrated to death. 

            Stan has a great dislike towards cats and had some plans in mind for the neighborhood cats around Iroquois Park.  There is one particular cat that he finds very annoying; this cat was a Feline-ist:  the belief that all cats are superior too any other animals in existence.  She points too the lions and tigers being evidence of cats superiority.  She claims that when she dies she will come back as a cheetah.  So Stan, being the open-minded squirrel he was, scampered too her quarters and urinated on her while she was resting.  She was dreaming of the much needed rain and began to drink the urine.  Stan couldn’t help but burst out laughing; quickly awoken the cat slowly understands her predicament.  Enraged she chases Stan with a vengeance, to kill. 

            Other strange pass-time activities that his squirrel buddies frown upon, is his friendliness with horses.  It seems that Stan always, when telling a story, has a horse involved.  Of course this horse usually represents his pal Jack.  Jack is the horse that the police officers ride on for fun.  The two didn’t become friends until after one night in particular.  Stan was hopping from tree to tree throughout Iroquois when he suddenly heard Jack yelling for help.  Stan fallowed the screams and found the horse in his stall being chased by a large dog.  Stan had a bad brush with a wolf back where he came from; he understood what it took to get rid of these malicious creatures.  Stan ran, with the agility of the best squirrel, running in circles around the wolf singing, “You gotta be starting something, you’ve got to be starting something” by Michael Jackson.  As you may very well see by this point, Stan does have a strange fascination with singing this disturbed man’s songs.  The wolf, unaccustomed to singing squirrels running circles around him bolted in fear.  Obviously if this strange creature had no fear of him then there had to be more hidden around to attack him.

            Since then Jack and Stan have been closest of friends.  Sometimes Jack will let Stan ride on him so that Stan can really see what speed is.  The two have done much together, Stan considers Jack to be his closest friend ever.  They always spend a few days together throughout the week.  This week in particular became such a moving week…

Stan:  “I am so frustrated!  It just seems I will never find a significant partner” sighing he stares up into the starry sky.

Jack: “Why man?  What’s up?”

            “Each squirrel I go out with is looking to have children; it’s all they think about.  If not that they think I am just weird or messed up in the head.”

            Unfortunately Stan isn’t over exaggerating.  You already have witnessed Stan’s dating…skills.  Before then though, he had dated many squirrels.  On one occasion he went out with a squirrel named Raspucha, while they were hanging on for dear life on the farris wheel at the Kentucky Kingdom (Stan loves risking his life) she seemed to focus on one thing.

“Stan”

“Whats up?”

“I want to have babies, lots; I am talking thirty, at least.  I want you to be the one to bring them too this world.”

“…”                            

“Stan?”

Stan immediately lets go and plummets from the top of the Ferris Wheels arch.  Raspucha never saw him again, convinced that he plummeted too his death from such delight towards the proposal.

Jack:  “Well, she was the only one right?”

            Actually it seemed that either Stan ended up with a bunch of crazies or they thought he was crazy.  One time Stan and a young lady went out too the Zoo to see how the other animals liked living in cages.  Nothing monumental happened until after Stan chased a peacock. 

“Stan, your such a stud.  I mean, you just do whatever you want.  I will do whatever you say to stay in your life.”

“Whatever?”

“Yeah, just give me the word and I will do it, I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“Is this normal for you?  I mean, we are on our first date you know.”

“Yeah, but none of the other squirrels are like you.  You are so…hot!”

“Alright, go jump into the viper pit.”

Of course Stan WAS kidding.  But the young squirrel went into the reptile exhibit and jumped into the viper pit.  Fortunately for the people, they got to see the viper in action as it devoured the squirrel.  Of course this didn’t end without her screaming for Stan to rescue her.  Stan was long gone by this point, he had no clue what had happened, he thought she was going along with the joke and was looking forward too a little playful flirting.  He found out the next morning when he peered into a human’s window to find that a squirrel had jumped into the snake exhibit, a strange sight indeed.

Jack:  “Wow…”

Silence veiled the mood.  Stan lying on Jack’s back, staring into the sky in deep thought.  Jack also in deep thought, but trying to stay cool by eating the hay surrounding him. 

“Maybe I should just give up on relationships; maybe there isn’t another squirrel out there for me.  I mean, I am happy alone, but it would also be nice if I had someone to spend my time with other than you.”

“Look man, she will come around eventually.  You just have to wait for her.”

            Stan had tried this once as well.  It didn’t turn out so hot.  You see, while Stan was sleeping another squirrel was sitting out of his window watching him.  Unfortunately for Stan he had gas, it was so bad that the watching squirrel grew dizzy and fell from the branch.  She broke her neck and lay helpless as a dog came by and picked her up.

“It seems like I have been waiting around for forever and no one is coming by. I think I need to be a little active in my search.  I don’t know.”

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            Stan scampered away after a deep conversation with Jack.  No answers were found, they never are.  Still unsatisfied, Stan returned too the lake.  Looking across where the human he saw was, was still there.  This was increasingly odd.  This human is staring into the lack, alone and still.  Maybe he was dead.  Stan ran along the circling edge of the lake towards the human, curious and nervous.  The human turned and looked at the approaching squirrel.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            I sit along the edge of the lake, thinking about all the things going on in my life.  My family seems so scattered.  I went out tonight on a date only to find that it was another empty date.  Just as many dates before, this one headed nowhere.  I hear someone approaching and turn to see a squirrel heading right towards me.  I keep my eyes on the squirrel, it stares back at me.  It stops and stands on its hind legs, staring.  I stare back, a connection exists.  Maybe we both are on the same page.  Maybe this squirrel is just like me, alone.  I feel like we are on the same page. 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            To Stan the human seemed to acknowledge his presence.  He felt this bond grow stronger between himself and the man.  He was alone, just like him, maybe having the same problems.  It seems so strange for the two of them to be here together alongside this lake.  The human sighed and looked back into the lake.  Stan walked closer too the human and sat beside the man.  For some reason he felt no threat from the human, there was no potential for harm.  Stan didn’t know what would happen, he too sighed and stared into the lake.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            Stan wakes up, finding he is still lying on Jacks back.  Jack apparently still in thought, murmurs, “maybe your turning gay?”

“Jack, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

“What?” a hint of unease crept into Jacks voice.

“I like you allot! Let me lick you behind the ears! BLAGH!”  cried Stan in a monotonous voice.  Jack begins to buck as Stan dances around on Jacks back, “I’m filled with rage!” growled Jack.

            Another conversation ends In laughter, the best way to escape reality.  The way Stan likes it to be.  Obviously in need of sleep, Stan heads home.

            There are days Stan wishes he was not nice.  Stan has had his share of encounters with annoying squirrels.  Brother Bob, a name he himself coined after witnessing a human practice called “religion”.  He began observing “evangelism” and “church” and practicing these strange behaviors.  He had put together an outfit made of straw and began preaching about the coming of “Madusa”.  He began chanting, which scared many passer-by’s.  Running around, he shook other squirrels commanding them to cover their “nakedness”.  He spoke strangely, as if gasping for air at the end of each sentence, very annoying.  Thankfully this community doesn’t tolerate idiots.  Someone pushed Brother Bob off a branch onto the Black.

            Currently the annoying squirrel Stan is dealing with is his date.  He told her the story that he does at every date and what does she do?  Analyze him!

“You know Stan, you would make an interesting subject for psychological research.”

“Uh…ok.”

“It’s obvious that from your story that you have a self-worth issue.  You try to hide the serious mental issues through humoring the experiences in your fictitious story.”

“You’re giving me gas.”

“And you’re still doing it!  I’d be laughing had I not known that your and extremely disturbed squirrel.  I mean, you believe you’re human!  Your story has so many human-like characteristics!”

“I love how you’re mentally destroying me, it’s such a turn-on”

            Stan is trying his best to love this confused squirrel for her “unique-ness” but it’s getting very hard.

“Look, it’s great that you are the very first squirrel to actually see through the story and realize it’s a metaphorical representation of my character.  BUT!  You are focusing on all the crap about me and only that.  It would be quite helpful if you looked at the larger picture, past my humor, there is more too me than that!  I do have a problem with myself, try being single as long as I have and dating a bunch of weirdo’s, which you are one, no offense.  I think that this whole dating thing sucks!  Why?  Because I have been alive for many, many years and yet to have found a squirrel I can confide in, to love, to hold near and be close to!”

            Well now the squirrel has shut her trap, she stares blankly at Stan.  She doesn’t know what to say and begins to look for something to fiddle with.  She grabs her drink and begins to chug it. 

“So what, your just gonna sit there and be uncomfortable?  That doesn’t help any you know.  Maybe you should stop looking into other peoples problems and look and what your hiding inside.  It’s not fun when you’re the center of everyone’s attention, constantly being put on a pedestal with overwhelming expectations and THEN expected to be fine, normal, ok.  What’s normal anyway?”

            With this the young lady leaves the restaurant.  She can’t come with a response and being very uncomfortable she leaves.  Now Stan is sitting there, in his seat, thinking.  What just happened?  Did she reject him?  She never hinted at being disinterested or anything.  She just said what she thought would be appropriate, she must feel so humiliated because she messed this one up.  Usually Stan randomly meets the squirrels he dates and they quickly like him.  But her, her name was Kayla and Stan was actually sleep walking and bumped into her outside.  He felt like such a dork and apologized.  She laughed and said she does it all the time and always ends up stealing someone’s food from their house without knowing it.  This girl was just as strange as he was.  And what did he do?  Blew up on her.  After feeling like a failure and beating himself up he gathered enough desire too walk out and back too his tree.

            This night is such a beautiful night, the fall is quickly coming.  Leaves are becoming crisp, though still green.  It would’ve ended with a fine walk had he not done what he did.  Something moved up ahead though that caught Stan’s attention.  It was Kayla climbing up a tree, which was not hers.  He watched as she came back out with food.  Stan couldn’t help but burst into laughter as he realized that she was sleep walking and stealing squirrels food.  He is going to fallow her and see where her adventure takes her.  This surprisingly is his tree!  He quickly scampers ahead of her too the trunk and waits for her to bump into him.  Which she promptly does.  Waking with a start she looks up at Stan.  “Oh!  I-I am so sorry!”  She began to turn away, Stan being the romancer he was grabbed her arm.  Kayla, either unaware that this was Stan, or filled with rage, punched him in the face.  Stan quickly stood back up and called, “Kalya!”

            She stopped not much further than where she punched him and turned around, “Stan?”  So she didn’t know it was him at first, it is dark outside, so this registers in  his mind before he says anything else.

“Yeah, thanks for the punch in the face, I guess I deserve that for blowing up on you.  I am very sorry, I should’ve thought about why you were saying what you did before I opened my mouth.”

“I thought that was what you wanted me to say; I didn’t think I said anything negative.  I was hoping you’d find it humorous.”

“Yeah, well we need to work on that, your not that funny.”  A hurt expression crossed Kayla’s face.
 “See?  I made a funny and you get offended.  That’s the way I am.  Relax.  I really would like to try again with the date, I mean, you really messed it up and I figure you deserve a second chance.”  Kayla looked at Stan, and he knew she was catching on.

“Right, I forgot I was the one who blew up on you in public, making everyone stare at you.”  Feeling guilty he kinda lowered his head.  “No, I don’t want to do another date, who needs to go on dates to get to know someone that they are interested in?”  Stan couldn’t believe it, was she not the coolest squirrel ever?!

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

            With the sun lighting the sky, the wind keeping the world cool.  Stan ran too the lake and found the human sitting on the side of the lake again.  He ran around the lake, happy, free, and content.  It seemed that the human seemed free, happy and content as well, the feeling here, right now, was electrifying.  He stopped next too the human and looked up, the human looked down.  It seemed that they were on the same page just as before.  This is peculiar for Stan because he just couldn’t understand how this human could feel and understand exactly what he was feeling.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            I look down at this peculiar squirrel; his name is Stan, a figment of my imagination, a character of my story.  A story I live, a story that I made this little guy live out.  No more though, this little guy won’t carry the burdens of my life anymore.  Though not everything this little guy went through is exactly what I went through he represents what I believe, see, and understand of this world.  It’s time for Stan to go off and live a life that any other regular squirrel lives, I have found a peace now, I am ok with where I am at.  It’s not these small trivial things in life that define my character, it’s not the small things that are the point, and there is more to living and experiencing.  The squirrel perks up suddenly, “Stan, don’t get wrapped up in life, just live it.”  The squirrel seems to understand me, though contrary to common belief, animals cannot understand humans, and so the squirrel, frightened by my directedness towards it, scampers away.