The first book I remember loving was Aesop's Fables. I re-read it as an adult and thought: that shit is harsh – this guy Aesop was on to something.
I find myself wanting to pontificate, moralize, and generally explain to everybody all the ways in which they're wrong about everything – especially about how they think about life. Humble stuff I know. Fables, like comedy, wrap a sanitizing membrane around opinionated and outrageous matters – they are innocuous enough that nobody feels a duty to be put out after reading one. In theory.
All fables are my own frustrations. Any resemblance to any other frustrations, your own or those you imagine others have, is coincidental.