Cat Problems

My friend and I have made up (sort of), but my cat and I are on newly tumultuous terms.  Eh, scratch that.  We’ve always kinda had an issue.  That issue lies in my desire to keep a vibrant menagerie of living things and Kronos’ desire to ….murder everything.  Today marks the death of the fourth lizard at the paws of my purebred Bengal cat.  That really bites, especially since I’ve only tried my hardest to amp up security and safety with every casualty.  I should be at the top of my game.  But I’m not, and the cat cannot be blamed particularly since he only does what comes natural.  This sucks more so because, like the human friend, things were going so well earlier.  Kronos was being cute, and I felt like my day was so accomplished.  I thought I could trust him and that I had a handle on things.  I thought it was gonna be a pleasant Sunday for the books.  However, instead of going to bed contented, I’m still wide awake at nearly 2 AM, pointing a laser to the floor to amuse and exhaust the cat.  He’s an engine for destruction, after all. I’m not all that with it, but I’m processing things better now that a few hours have passed and the body buried.  Out of sight, out of mind… or so they say.

I shake it off so easy now.  When something dies, I cannot really find reason to mourn for long; its passing is not something I can change.  For practicality and survival reasons, I move on quick.

“That was quick.”

He always said that to me, when I’d pretend I’d moved on.  Oh but that statement betrays great jealousy, and I always hone in and pay attention despite knowing nothing will ever change.  Why do I mourn him, then?  I don’t try to.  We’ve reconciled.  We are…just friends now.  We always were, but now it is much more precisely defined.  I must truly move on here, too.  I struggle with being social and I always thought he “got” me.  I’m still isolated from humans, but my animals, it appears, play no nicer.  They toy with my emotions, too.  There’s really no winning, is there?

I don’t know what I want and there’s no one to really tell but this blog.  So I’m awake still and trying to move past another funeral. I can only move forward, of course.  Life is not sacred, and I will repeat that often in my writing.  When a creature perishes, no other animal can afford mourning without suffering great detriment.  It is replaced.  It is forgotten in the sands of time.  We assign importance as necessary because some things play greater roles in our lives than others.  They are deserving of respect because the loss is recognizable. But those who adapt survive and surviving is all we know how to do.  My defenses are up.  I must forget about you, beloved lizard.  Lest the disappointment ruin me.  Otherwise, I can only think of how I let you down.  There will be other lizards.

Will there be others of myself?

Will there be others of you?

How silly.  I really must get to bed.  These cat problems might kill me.


The Life Unfinished

I had a feeling today that many people were dying.  In the news, at least, and in the news that is the digital feed.  I feel as though car accidents and unfortunate incidents are afoot.  And I feel the biggest tragedy is that the art of a life story was abruptly left…in a cliffhanger, almost.  Maybe almost literally.  And that ink cannot be refreshed to start writing anew.  Death is a strange predicament.

I spoke to a coworker.  Someone well liked in the community was struck by a car.  Dead.  A student, no less, with all of the potential in the world.  It’s so strange we put emphasis on the youth that was robbed.  We do not know that he was to do great things.  But it is rather that lack of realization that we mourn.  He didn’t have a chance to fail us or wow us.  He just died….too soon. 

I would be mad if I died and if I could feel anger at moment of death which is unlikely.  I have so many plans for this world.  Yet it is sobering to see how my drawn out plans may be an undoing of a lifetime.  The sheer amount of time to accomplish things means I have all the more opportunity to die before I am accepting of that death.  But really…who accepts death?  Running out of time is the stuff of nightmares.  I may not sleep tonight if I dwell on this much longer.

I have a fish room not finished.  If I dropped dead tomorrow, I would be ashamed to leave my mess for someone else to clean up.  I want to be remembered for good things………

but that is the silly part of the matter.

Who is really remembered?