Curious creature on the street

I saw a curious creature today: a fat monkey marching proudly through life with the confidence of a king and the discipline of a fallen buffet table. He was eating while walking and walking while eating, as though he feared that if he paused for one moment, the world might suddenly run out of food and joy would perish forever.

His trousers had long surrendered to the struggle. They hung below their assigned duties, defeated by a round and ambitious belly that had expanded like a small republic declaring independence from his waistline. His stomach arrived before he did, announcing his presence with greater authority than his footsteps ever could.

But his appetite was not his most amusing feature. No, that honor belonged to his opinions.

The monkey spoke loudly  very loudly  for he had mistaken volume for wisdom. He laughed at his own words with the enthusiasm of a man awarding himself medals. He mocked human beings with great confidence, convinced that he possessed rare insight into the world. How remarkable it was to witness such certainty in a creature that had not yet mastered the difficult art of self-observation.

For that is often the comedy of inflated creatures: they inspect everyone except themselves. The monkey believed others were greedy because he himself could not imagine restraint. He believed others were foolish because he had never considered the possibility that foolishness might be living rent-free within his own skull. He believed everyone carried his own weaknesses because he assumed his nature was universal law.

He carried around himself an exaggerated feeling of importance, as if the trees leaned closer to hear him speak and the birds delayed their songs out of respect for his wisdom. In his mind, he was no ordinary monkey. He was philosopher, judge, prophet, and emperor all folded into one oversized package.

No one corrected him. No one straightened him. Perhaps they had grown tired. Or perhaps they understood an old truth: some monkeys become so enchanted by their reflections that they eventually mistake them for reality.

And so he continued walking, eating, talking, laughing, and judging others  blissfully unaware that the loudest comedy in the forest was not coming from his mouth, but from his existence itself.