I was in a forest...

"And another... another thing!" The tree hiccuped drunkenly, "She never lets me see the kids! Bitch!"
 I looked around sadly. It was no use, there was no-one else here: I didn't like the tree, but I felt sorry for him. His divorce had come through today, and someone needed to look after him.
 "It's ok big guy," I offered sympathetically. Reaching out, I patted his soft, punchable bark.
 "Hey!" He yelled, "Don't patronize me! I don't need you! I don't need anyone!"
Batting me away with a branch, he stormed off, towards the setting sun. After a few uneasy steps, he began to lose his balance, stumbling over roots and terrified wildlife.
 "Get away!" He yelled, as I again offered to help.
 Fine, I thought to myself, be a jerk. Turning on my heel, I went to leave. Behind me, I could make out the noises of the tree falling over.
A tree fell in the forest, and I heard it. But I'll never tell.

For your pleasure, a dress-up Sartre

Yes, I am well aware he has only one pair of trousers and no shoes. But it doesn't really matter, you won't cut him out and dress him, and I only made him to avoid doing work. Still, I hope something philosophical comes out of this for you...

Perhaps the light areas are dark for an artistic reason. Perhaps I'm just procrastinating. I do have a philosophy essay to do on Sartre, so that's probably more true. Originally, I wrote procreating instead of procrastinating. I am not procreating. That would make it too hard to type.

Is that a hilarious double entandre? I think not.

I have a friend, let's call him Jack, who is very important to me. This importance is not due, I'm afraid, to his qualities as a friend and human being, but in his use. This isn't quiet as bad as it seems - you see, keeping him well is beneficial to all of us, not just me.
Some years ago, a group of scientists and philosophers discovered that reality - as Descartes suggests hypothetically early in his Meditations - exists solely in the individual. While it is true that we think, therefore we are, it only appears to be true for Jack. The rest of us are simply figments of Jack's imagination. When he can't see us, we don't exist. This, however, is a small detail compared to the troubling fact that when he dies, we will most likely vanish.
To this end, I've dedicated my life to keeping "Jack" safe from any danger, as well as any sources likely to made his imagination run riot.
The last thing we need is more dragons.