Check it out: I am convinced that my cat doesn’t eat a lot because he is – as always – trying to exactly like me; trying to emulate me as if I was some sort of role model: he constantly follows me around, gazing at hallucinatory miscalculations – those which consist of rules which regard an insignificant emblem of his feline perceptivity, but back to his behavior – what the hell? I ascertain nothing. Among other many other perplexing and rebellious behaviors, he will not, under any circumstances, eat his “little tiny-expensive-so-he-will-live-damnit!” food unless his beloved Me is in the room. Right now, as I address you, he sits aloft my computer monitor, pretending that he is absolutely aloof to my presence… But I am catching on to his deceptive little feline games! He is unaware that I am aware of him following me everyplace that I wander, faithfully and consistently. He takes his own little precise kitty time, catches up to me, plunks down within millimeters of me, and pretends like he isn’t cosmically tandem – like I’m not his GOD. Ummm… just joking. Anyone from Cleveland? Affirmative, Maw, I know I ain’t god. I received that memo YEARS ago. But hey – I’m al’ight. I’m existing splendidly, thanks for asking! I realize that I subsist only of my own integrity and conduct. I am whatever I think I am. I accept the consequences of my own actions. I believe in the laws of cause and effect (insert any joke here). I decide to confront my own contradictions and demonstrate interpretation of my truth. I will not tell you to go to hell or anywhere else, but I will continue to harvest you in tactful consideration of my every influence, though I may choose to disobey you from time to time. Kosher?
Listen very carefully, this is my only demand: Nothing. Would you give me that for once?! I demand absolutely nothing from you and I expect you to carry through with that.
I would enjoy listening to a good story about my first encounter with JJ. I ran into her with a slightly charming eye contact thing I had been working on, and then she certainly fell in love with me.
“Everyone is in love with you,” she dared to tell me a few times with out a trace of sarcasm or other means of most dignified deception for any reason whatsoever, so I began to believe her after seven or eight years, and a few days later, I asked her if she could back that up.
She hasn’t spoken about it since, and I am beginning to get suspiciously bored with the concept altogether. So I forgave myself after she beat me at ice hockey and psychological meanderings. We are pretty ridiciously luck, we say to ourselves.