| If angels are messengers, shadows of evil are the bouquet of compass roses beneath their path on our maps. Maybe the maps make it harder on purpose. After all, they are the creation of human dwelling. The only medium between these abstract planes of existence is a battleground; each side trying to tell the other "Stop sending messages!". | |
| Sort of like how no one wants to clean the litter box for their cat. Well, 'no one' is pretty broad. But you get what I'm saying - " No one ever gets down at the litter box on their hands and knees and says, 'WOW, what a terrific fuckin' day to put my face this close to shit and piss..' do they? ". I find that very concept remarkably attractive in terms of 'what I'm looking for in life'. | |
| It's easy to love a cat publicly and still loathe cleaning their litter box in secrecy. What's really important is the emotion we put in to the action of cleaning their shit corners. 'Shit corners' - by the way - are much more effective for cats and beneficial for their sense of freedom. If they feel they have more freedom, they become easier to train and willing to do tricks. | |
| There's always money to be made doing things other people don't want to do. That's what my great meemaw 'Nilla always said; of course she was a prostitute and substitute teacher. They called her 'Nilla because she was white and ... well you get my point. She was willing to do *most* things everyone else wouldn't do; she died a rich, wealthy middle-aged-woman. | |
| At what point do the desires necessitating secrecy and the illusive secrecy in hiding where no one else wants to look intersect? The question of regret or remorse for any discourse or exposed action doesn't really come to mind. Sometimes if we need to indulge the secrets, we convince ourselves with made up reasons. So I suppose I found a reason to do it. | |
| It's a choice both ways to participate in an exchange. The act of chasing repels any thoughts or feelings that may be truly your own. Freedom is subjectively created but so objectively dismantled, or taken away. You could say it skips a generation in my family; making me a bit predispositioned to really enjoy some things most others don't do. The best place to hide anything is always a place no one else wants to look at. | |