He was wonderful. He was free. He was Gay, the Puffer Fish. Every time he met another fish it was the same thing. Hi, I’m Gay, the Puffer Fish and he would puff up twice his usual size and with spikes all over.
Gay seemed to have amnesia because he said the same line to the same person much like a robot. Hi, I’m Gay, the Puffer Fish. One day a group of fish tried to help. “We all know who and what you are,” they told Gay, the Puffer Fish, who immediately puffed and spiked up.
C’mon Gay, you don’t have to do that. Must take a lot of energy, said one fish.
Can’t we ever talk about something else, said another.
You know, no one is trying to hurt you, said the last.
But Gay the Puffer Fish only puffed and spiked the more. His defense mechanism had become his life, his identity, his mode of being. Word got around and the other fish began to avoid Gay the Puffer Fish. They began to ask themselves, “What did we even see in that fish anyway.”
In very little time, Gay the Puffer Fish was lonely, dejected and not very gay. He had just lost interest. And then one day he just forget to puff and spike up.
“Hey Gay,” said a group of grouper. “What’s up?”
Obviously ke never got the word that he doesn’t have to go to all those weddings. He can send his regrets and best wishes, or his regrets and a gift.
Sometimes we just overlook the obvious.
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The Gay Puffer Fish
He was wonderful. He was free. He was Gay, the Puffer Fish. Every time he met another fish it was the same thing. Hi, I’m Gay, the Puffer Fish and he would puff up twice his usual size and with spikes all over.
Gay seemed to have amnesia because he said the same line to the same person much like a robot. Hi, I’m Gay, the Puffer Fish. One day a group of fish tried to help. “We all know who and what you are,” they told Gay, the Puffer Fish, who immediately puffed and spiked up.
C’mon Gay, you don’t have to do that. Must take a lot of energy, said one fish.
Can’t we ever talk about something else, said another.
You know, no one is trying to hurt you, said the last.
But Gay the Puffer Fish only puffed and spiked the more. His defense mechanism had become his life, his identity, his mode of being. Word got around and the other fish began to avoid Gay the Puffer Fish. They began to ask themselves, “What did we even see in that fish anyway.”
In very little time, Gay the Puffer Fish was lonely, dejected and not very gay. He had just lost interest. And then one day he just forget to puff and spike up.
“Hey Gay,” said a group of grouper. “What’s up?”
Obviously ke never got the word that he doesn’t have to go to all those weddings. He can send his regrets and best wishes, or his regrets and a gift.
Sometimes we just overlook the obvious.