I am a chicken with his head cut off right now. That, of course, is a beautiful existence. What does the chicken running around with moments left to live have to offer anyone. Maybe he runs the path his that life should take. Is it Nirvana? Is it Liberty? Is it Freedom?
Alive?, but with a head in the feed covered dirt somewhere.
It's an image that really fascinated me in younger times. But that I haven't thought of in a long time.