Where the Wild Things Are
By Victor Savio
15 Jan 2010
We are animals. We used to kill for food, to defend ourselves.
We live now in cities. We live in unnatural campaigns, amid cornfields and pastures.
Who remembers being frightened by a wild beast from its night terrors when he was kid?
Who remembers the breath of a giraffe in the scorching sun, the sigh of the okapi in the long rains of the monsoon?
Who remembers the taste of dried blood of a dead animal on his lips, the rustling of the wings of vultures, the fear of being robbed his pittance by a bear?
These dead animals, placed in front of painted background, surrounded by plastic plants are our memories, our link with our past.
We are building their magnificent and artificial cathedrals of glass and plastic to house their remains eaten away by moths, while defiling their last natural sanctuaries.
I would believe that our children we'll hate us, but unfortunately this will not be the case.