foxes, foxes, flying foxes

"What is the most manipulative, wrong used and the most innocent phrase in the world?
Well, of course, "We are responsible for those whom we have tamed".
Properly rotated, this phrase can turn conscientious and not too confident in their decisions persons inside out through their own rectum.
It's excellent can be substituted into "We are responsible for those who believe us", "For those who relied on us", "For those who are accustomed to us."

But you just have to remember, who said to the little Prince this phrase.
And everything is at once in it's place.

And, by the way, Fox is right.
Because we're responsible for those, whom we have tamed.
Whom we promised.
Whom we persuaded.
Whom we taught.
Whom we has encouraged.
Whom we gave our word.

And those, who has imagined something for us, alas, does not fall in the field of responsibility.
And that's why Fox says to Prince:
- Please, tame me!

To tame is "to give your heart and soul".
Give me your soul, says Fox as the matter of fact.

Still, it's very, very true story.

"Some girls are not created to be tamed. They created to be free, until they meet someone alike,  to be free together!"

That's true.

  Good to be a fox. Especially chinese fox. Meet a man in the spring field (you're running, yapping, searching for a mouse), a man looks into your indifferent eyes, on your two magical tails (and the third is still growing), gets off his horse and asks: “Do you want to live with me?” You seat on your ass on the fatty black April ground, lick your third tail and says: “No”. But man doesn't hear “no” (it's his human fate, it's your fox curse). Man always hears “yes”. He looks at you as his property and doesn't see neither your first tail, nor the second, nor the third, which is already growing, nor your face in mustache. “So, you will live with me?” - he asks. “So, I will” - you answer already, as you've resigned. And he takes you at home.

  The first year has passed by. The second. The third. Man lies with you, alive, warm. Lies as in grave. By you buried. Crying. And every man is crying like a baby. A girl, a boy, a puppy. How to leave him? How to hit him? How to say: “I don't love you?” In his pulp to say: “There will be nothing between us”. Fox doesn't know what to say in this moments. Always “yes”. (It's just a man – a honest Soldier, with a capital letter, not like everybody – is able to hit on fingers climbing the love grave, scratching, trying to cling, wanting to live. The fox can't hit. It's a pity to her. Well, what to take with her, she's still sneaky.

  “Hey, don't cry, I'm with you, I will stay for a while” - you say. And the baby stops crying. And adult stands up from the bed, and there's steppe in his eyes. Dark, millenial. “MY” - he says, “My, don't give to anybody”, and this nameless, not recognizing you, but attentive to all your movements force pulls you in a hole, in a stuffy human hole. The man looks intently. Observes. Guards. Behind the door – economy, rootendness. Behind you nothing. Only the moon in the window. And you want to fly in the sky. But no. He grabs you by the neck: “Fly here, it's useful (pointing to bed), and there not. And looking again with dark eyes. And there's abyss. (This abyss they call love. Stupid, angry, hot, that makes you shiver already). And fox is hanging, took by the neck, looking down on the boots of the master. “I love it, when I'm your one and only, and you're my one and only” - he says to the fox. She nods obediently. Although she didn't impose. “But that's not all” -  the man continues to insist (steppe turns out to be chatty) - “I want nothing but truth. Never lie to me! Lying corrupts. Remember that.

  Booms! Arrived! Turned, grabbed by the arm, pulled out on the floor,  stood in a rack (back to the corner, in front of the mouth of the speaker): “ Really want? So you know it, the truth! Now better, than me. With your sensitivity. That's why you cried. Or maybe you cried because of fleas tortured you?” Silent. Starts to cry again. “Well,” - the fox says with boiling anger - “Do you want your rotten truth? Take it! I don't love you!” “No”, - replies he in tears, “You love. I just know, that you have love for me. I feel it. When your love is gone, I'm gone. Or you run”. (Run, oh, yeah. And inside of fox – emptiness). “Ok, I have” - she says. Goes back to the bed, rolls into a pretzel and licks her fourth tail.

  A dog at the door is filled with vicious barks. In vain, that fucked in the head dog. But feels. Hate him!