For months I planned this adventure. Buying supplies for my time away from civilization, learning the local dialects, getting immunizations, updating passports, all of these things occupied my time, but during the activity my mind was focused only on the reality of my impending journey. It saddens me to think that not everyone gets to live a dream as I am living now. High on this mountainside far from the nearest human, I wonder what factor of human nature gives some the courage to leap into the unknown whilst others are content to live with the knowledge that tomorrow will be much like today will be much like yesterday. I was not content being in cities, my heart cried out, and thousands of miles away, I could hear the answer of the wilderness call to me.
Now I am here, amongst these noble creatures in their natural habitat. I have only been with them for a few short weeks, but it seems that they have already accepted me as one of them. They are both beautiful and awesome. I can see the intelligence behind their dark eyes as I sit and watch their social interactions. The big silverback rarely speaks, but when he does the others all listen and tremble. His terrible intelligence and cunning can be frightening when vented upon some poor youngster who dares pester him with foolishness. I have decided to name him Cecil. There is another younger male whom I have dubbed Handy. He cannot seem to leave a gathering alone. He will amble over and interject himself into the conversation almost without fail, but he quickly loses interest and either starts picking nits off of an attractive female, or goes to find another gathering. I hope that one day he finds something or someone to hold his interest. . The rugged athletic one I call Scylla, I find his mannerism vastly amusing, as he seems to have no trouble in making others feel better even at the expense of his own pride.
The females seem to have a social structure of their own, though the males pester them constantly; they support and nurture each other in a way, which humans cannot match. They share both triumphs and sadness openly and all will come running when one emits a distress call.
Fortunately sad times are few and far between for these guileless primates. They spend their days in idyllic contemplation; although I cannot fathom what it is which haunts the recesses of their sharp minds. The males chase after the females, particularly XjetGirlX and Angela, both stunning examples of the species, but different as night and day
They are each so different and so wonderful that I have trouble sometimes deciphering why more humans aren’t drawn to their world. I cannot now imagine life without their reassuring presence. The low sounds of continued communication puts me to sleep at night, and I wake in the morning to find that new treasures await me. Every day is an adventure with them, they are charming, delightful and mysterious these dopers in the mist.
I do apologize. My vanity can’t just let it die like this. I actually put some effort into this one. So kill it if you must, I will hereafter obey the will of the people.
This morning I went to visit the water hole at the edge of the Savannah, and I was taken aback by a beautiful and wondrous cite.
There it was! The rare and magnificent Eutychus Baboon was displaying for an unseen female! All the more wondrous because this wonderful and intricate dance could only be seen from one side. Would the female be impressed by his athletic carefree cavorting and his purple butt? Oh the privilege to witness this! I learned later that there was indeed a mate, watching in the bush.
As I proceeded down the trail I felt the uncomfortable eyes of the unseen Lurker monkeys studying my every move.
As I filled my canteen at the watering hole I became aware of an uncormfortable and fearsome presence. Behind me stood, silent and unmoving the dreaded Manhattan Rhinoceros.
Terrified I beheld its silent majesty. I knew that its peaceful and slothlike demeanor was a thin veneer for the explosive action and the berserker rage that lay beneath. I was in its forum now and one false move and it would charge.
Carefully I filled my canteen, closed it and put it away. I made sure not to meet it eyes or display any spam as that would be sure to provoke the beast.
Nevertheless the rhino stayed close on my heels and seemed to grow more and more disturbed. I realized I had not asked a question.
I needed a diversion! I thought about pulling a sock puppet from my knapsack and throwing it into the woods. With any luck that would distract the beast long enough for me to get away. But, something told me I better not.
“Ummm,” I said. "A question, huh? Okay, ummm. What are the three words ending in “gry?”
Fearing the imminent trampling that awaited me, I quickly jumped off to the side, into the underbrush. With the Manhattan Rhinoceros (and it’s obviously limited attention span) off of my back, I slowly and carefully moved ahead.
As I moved on, the glaring eyes of the Lurker Monkeys staring at me, I happened upon a clearing in the brush. Looking ahead, I saw a lone male in the clearing, with what appeared to be a tube of toothpaste. How could a creature like this get a tube of toothpaste in the jungle? I was fascinated. With his back turned to me, I could not tell exactly what it was that he was doing. His arm was pumping wildly, obviously fixated on whatever task it was that he was doing.
Suddenly, the lone male I had decided to call SPOOFE paused, and looked intently at his hand. What was it that he saw? Then with what could be only construed as panic, he began moaning in what sounded like pain.
What was it that he could be doing?
He began to start running around, digging through the underbrush, looking for something. His one hand was firmly covering what could only be his genitals, moaning in pain. Faint smears of blood covered his hand.
“My god! What has he done to himself!” I muttered, as SPOOFE quickly disappeared into the brush, still moaning in pain.
Disappointed at having lost sight of my new quarry, I continued on.
I decided to spend my day researching some of the more popular males, to see if I could determine the qualities that the females of this species prefer (for science of course!!). There was one who seemed to have the attention of more than a few ladies. I chose Coldfire as his name due to his intense coutenance and intimidating wit, yet the women seemed drawn to his quiet self assured manner. Or perhaps it is due to the size of the loincloth he would need, if you know what I mean.
In an odd twist, one member of the group seems to suddenly have gone from relative obscurity to being very popular indeed. In fact, until just yesterday, he was such an unknown entity that I only had an alpha numeric designation for him. He will remain jr8 until such time as I can think of an appropriate name.
Tomorrow I may go and try to shed some light on that section of the jungle which seems to have a such negative effect on the personalities of all who enter. It lies in the valley on the other side of this mountain. It will take the better part of a day to travel there, and I am more than a little timid at the prospect of being in that region after dark. Even the most gentle of these great creatures seems to become vicious, even cruel, when they spend any length of time in the pit as I call it.