I’m steak now.

I expected this.

This is simply a bull’s destiny from day 1: to be food for humans.

I should be worried but I can’t feel anything. I can see but I have no eyes. I can hear stuff. I can’t taste anything.

I’m just there. I’m sitting on some white circle with a metal pitchfork next to me.

I don’t feel concerned due to how natural it all feels but it makes me think more.

Humans feed us animals to fatten us so they can eat us. It’s some facade of care. If this is the true purpose of us animals, then after I get eaten, will the cycle end? Did I get to live more and longer because I didn’t follow the set path that all animals should take?

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I may just be right. But I don’t know, it feels sad.

But I can’t feel. I’m just thinking aloud.

I can sort of hear two human noises talking over each other. A male one and the female one of the human that always gave us hay. I couldn’t understand anything, but the only thing I could understand was the female human constantly saying ‘Bessie’ in a more… crying fashion?

Bessie was the name I was given. I hate it.

But she fed us hay, so maybe I should accept it to be nice.

Wait. No, she doesn’t care. It’s a facade of care.

I’m intelligent enough to avoid liking the face rather than the hand that fed me.

This may be the end of me once I get eaten, so what’s the point in even thinking?

My nonexistent head will hurt, and I will have no grass to eat to make it easier for myself.

So I want to stop thinking.

I’d rather just disappear.

Maybe if I follow the true path of animals, I’ll end up in paradise this time.

Lots of grass. Lots of hay. My pride intact.

And most importantly, I hope this paradise makes it so that I don’t have to think.

It hurts.

I’m lonely.

I hate being special.

I hate being intelligent.

I hate being a bull.

I hate life.