The way I wander from blog to blog, clicking on commenter after commenter, is exactly like this picture. I've held hands with a monkey (who took the initiative and reached for my hand, actually) and it was weirdly familiar and unfamiliar, simultaneously.
I see Owen there. I see exactly what you're saying and sometimes that is a good, good thing- to perceive as normal that which is unusual to a beautiful degree.
A, in what situation did this hand holding take place?Mama, yes, I was thinking of our family there.
I was a little kid, and I'm not sure what kind of park we were visiting but monkeys were walking around freely and one walked up to me and took my hand and just sort of strolled with me for about five minutes. We were almost the same size.It was much longer than I wanted to hold hands but I felt shy about pulling away (lest it cause hurt feelings? not sure, but something like that) so I waited until he or she let go.
That's officially the cutest story I have heard all day.
That picture is cute, that story is cute. I think there has always been apart of me that wants an ape as a really good friend. We'd spend time looking for fruit, making faces at each other, and of course picking through each others hair. Sounds like one heck of a good friend.
That is basically what Taylor and I do.
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