“Why did the chicken cross the road?” I tried to come up with the most interesting answer. Here is what I came up with.
Maybe the chicken knew that the road was dangerous and decided to cross anyway. Maybe the chicken was suicidal. The more I think about it the sadder I feel. Maybe the chicken wanted to get to the other side …. The after life. It knows it will end up as generic bland chicken fingers. Life is not worth living.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Or maybe it spent a life time observing an eagle. Admiring how it flew above the clouds. Wishing it could be the same. Finally, chicken thought: “Damn it!” I will never be able to fly, but I have these spindly legs that can walk. And walking is what I will do. In a moment of pure self empowerment, the chicken decides to cross the road not realizing how dangerous modern day traffic is. And splat! All it’s dreams finished in one tragic moment.
Perhaps it’s an adventurous chicken. All it’s life Esmeralda (I decided to call my chicken Esmeralda), Esmeralda was told by it’s mother: “Don’t cross the road! It is dangerous.” But in forbidden books Esmeralda read about the wonders that lay on the other side of the road. The amusement park, the fancy deluxe chicken coop and the handsome mysterious rooster. Esmeralda wanted to experience all this for itself. And …… you know what happens.
Maybe there is no particular reason. Do you always have a reason when you cross the road. Sometimes life doesn’t make any sense. Perhaps it wasn’t feeling or thinking anything. It didn’t experience a childhood trauma. It wasn’t trying to make a statement of any kind. It crossed the road for the pure simple joy of it.
Or perhaps Esmeralda read The Animal Farm by George Orwell. Felt outraged by the corruption of the societal power dynamic and decided to leave it all behind. Spring forth to create a better world.
Or maybe I am asking the wrong question. Perhaps there is no road. There is no chicken. There is only crossing. Continual energy participles moving about. Become one with the crossing.
Or maybe Esmeralda was asked “Who came first? The chicken or the egg?” The question sent the chicken into an endless thought spiral. Crossing the road became the only answer.
So next time you are driving down the road, listening to your favorite tune. Think of the plight of the chicken.
Do you have a unique answer to the question “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Let me know in the comment section.