Well, yeah, I know I should update and while yesterday I was writing an entry about how I thought I was in love with the girl who once (or twice) tried to steal my girlfriend, today the infatuation has faded. It burns brightly around her, but today...nothing.
And instead of ranting about working a boring job for 8 hours a day and not getting paid a red penny for it, I'm going to post something I wrote in my paper journal. I don't write in it very often, though I should. And I never date anything, so I don't remember when I wrote this. But I like it.
Monday morning, sitting at the station. A lady has a cat, in a cage, and every now and again -- very quietly -- it goes
"miaow"
Nothing more, just a small, unhappy "miaow".
It isn't a clever metaphor for how I feel, it's a real cat with real cat thoughts and real cat feelings. I wanted to talk to it, ask it how it was, how it went at the vets -- as surely, that's where it had been -- but, duh, it's a cat.
And besides, the lady whose cat it was might not like it if people talk to her cat.
No comments:
Post a Comment