Bears are chubby hairy men. I like them for their fur. I like to follow them around, wherever I spot them. I followed them with my stare. I like looking at them.
It is almost to the point of worshipping them. It's deeper than the normal appreciation of someone who looks good and who looks mean at the same time. Yin and yang in one huggable body. Them bears looked so tough, you may think that they could break you into pieces. But au la meme temps, you couldn't stop yourself from rushing into their arms for a warm bear hug.
In public places, I often say woof when there's a bear in sight. I say woof again when the bear is fair-skinned. Then I GRRRRRRHHHH when the bear would sense that I am chasing him. I don't stop in my way.
I chase bears.
I want to understand them. I'd like to know why I am fixated with them. They are cuddly. They are lovable. They made me smile. They are very confident and comfortable in their own skin and fur. I think they know that they are being chased. They want to be chased and they like it.
Now, I'm going out for a while. I'll go hunt for bears. GRRRRRHHHH
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