He stood in the forest, eyes closed. The injured trees, the still air shouted to him his new cause. He slowly knelt, and remembered his life. Birth, parents, learning to lie, growing up, moments of anger, punishments, accomplishments. Taming. Much of his life was spent being tamed, the rest living a shameful life of comprimise, office politics, meaningless conversation, worthless consumption, and white lies. 16 years of taming, 10 years of life in a cubicle. He would change his life. He felt tears run down his face... A loss of complexity, a tearing down of a long-built identity. He might miss it. An exchange for another good. Innocence. New eyes see the past as full of mistakes. Old reservations disappear when their prohibitions are seen as being rationalized away in some other form. He stripped off his shoes, felt the joy that nature would give him through that special connection of earth to bare feet, and placed his hands .. front feet on the ground as well. His pure mind would at last grant the forest a loyal defender. A joyous howl rang out from the trees.
I'm feeling somewhat better today. I can barely talk, largely because I did so much coughing yesterday, but I'm upright, not nearly as tired, and can eat. My eyes no longer feel like a furnace.. perhaps just like a small flashlight. I'm heading to work today in a few hours.. I'm glad that I only had to use one sick day on this whole mess. As I type this (and typed the story preceding it), I have a very cute Wallycat lying on my lap. Every few minutes, I reach out and rub the side of his face. I wonder if I've just had good luck with cats, if I have a knack for picking good ones, or if I just raise cats well. Generally, cats that spend a lot of time with me turn out to be remarkably well-tempered, personable, and friendly. They end up pretty much like laid-back dogs. I generally like dogs that have some of the nicer qualities of cats too. What the world really needs is pets that are more an-cat/dog-drogenous. Take out the cat/dog part, and the world could do with a lot of that too. Gender roles offer excuses for different kinds of bad behavior for people based on their actual gender. Oh well. That's another rant for another time. Maybe that time is in the past... I might've already written all I need to write about it. Ahh. I love the little purring squeaks Wally makes when he's really happy. Sometimes just scratching the top of his head makes him filled with joy. I can't remember the last time I felt like that.