But it was pointless, it was stupid; he thought about thoughtless things. If I were a seabird . . . but how could you be a seabird? If you were a seabird your brain would be tiny and stupid and you would love half-rotted fish guts and tweaking the eyes out of little grazing animals; you would know no poetry and you could never appreciate flying as fully as the human on the ground yearning to be you.If you wanted to be a seabird you deserved to be one.
The character reflects on the futility of wishing to be something they are not, like a seabird. They contemplate the limitations that come with such a transformation, suggesting that a seabird's simple life and instincts lack the appreciation for deeper experiences, such as poetry and a profound yearning for freedom. The desire to escape one's current reality seems misguided when weighed against the richness of human thought and creativity.
This internal...
