Cats are old

Their knuckles creak when they limp over from rubbish piles to garbage cans,
Their formerly pretty pink muzzles turn to a leaky brownish rust
spreading like a disease,
The silky fluff is long gone,
bobbles of dry and brittle hair fall in strings from their stripped buttocks,
Their big eyes get glassy,
creepy,
sometimes pierced by a woeful claw,
pus is oozing, swelling the corners,  and the orifices,
while the body gets scrawny, and the coastal bones more pregnant,
The gait is clumsy, the heads swing and toss and twitch about,
as guided on a string by a vicious pupeteer,
They sprawl on the ground, anywhere, for a lack of energy to find a cosy spot,
the sun bites their face, and roasts their skin,
the earth soils their scarce fur, sticking all over,
but no step further can be made,
Their tongues are drawn out as to lick a last evaporating hint of life,
Their fangs are filed down, if not neatly broken so the rot is settling in the cavity,
and it stinks hard,
Nothing solid can go through their disarticulate throats,
ending creatures,
They go whitened and die, for the luckiest, at the threshold of a cast iron hearth.
Miserable, too.

A lesson of humility

You never saw a man who looked so calm and kind, "a cream of a human being" even said my heartless-faking brother.
"Searching for sugarman", a must-see for sensitive people.
And even if for me it's only a documentary and a reconstruction of people and places in my mind it was still very soothing to spend that time to watch it in the choosen form of this creation.

Humility and simplicity in living, here's something i bow down to.

cynicism

I've got a dilema, i think a majority of people are statistically stupid and shallow, but i don't know if it's a rationalization from my mind to keep me apart of fellow humans because they scare me, so a justification was created in me to make me innocent and everyone else guilty, or if truly, in an absolute truth, a great majority of people are just so deep down unconscious, disrespectful, and plain stupid.

Here are two examples from the past week.
How many times i drive my bike on the side of a road, a long and tiring ride, i'm drenched in sweat, and my damn frizzly hair are straight up like black springs coming out of my skull giving me the mad scientist look i guess, and then a car shows up, filled with generally quite young people, around or above their twenties, pre-eminently men and boys, they pass by all windows open, stare at me with over large grins and mischievous eyes, they wave, they gesticulate, and they shout some words, i can never hear, but it's obvious they are mocking me, my attire, my condition, my look, i don't know what but i suspect it's clearly not personal, it's just the pleasure and effort to find or consolidate their place in their gang, like animals could do, who is the chief, and who are the minions, it's a lack of self confidence, and deep trust in the group, trying to be funny, daring, and interesting, it's a proof of smallness, when that happens, and i swear it happens a lot as i ride a lot too, i just smile back and wave my hand in a peaceful sign, i'm not stopping living, my heart doesn't break, but i ask is it correct? is it fair? yeah maybe i'm this ugly that i deserve to be mocked, or maybe humanity is a doomed and worthless pile of dirt and shit.

And there's this woman who talked with my friend for some weeks, he made efforts to converse as he is shy and soft-spoken, sincerely trying to get to know her, and then one day after shedding on him all the misery others put in her life through childhood and adulthood, and noticing that he was only kindly listening to her, while she secretly wanted to be taken care of entirely, like a baby crawling back to his crib, be supported and loved without having to give anything back, crying for that feeling of hopelessness to be gutted out of her chest, she closed the contact and never resurfaced again. I know my friend is the kindest he would have genuinely respected her, listened to her and helped her, but she reproached him that events between them weren't going as in the fairy tales, the prince comes, snatches the princess, and they live happily ever after on the inexhaustible loads of money owned by the beautiful and fashionable prince!
Those people are vampires for honest souls.
Wake up damn sickos!

i put right here for that post two songs to show my
confusion, in cynicism i excel :

I feel like the loneliest person on earth, but what is potent is that it doesn't disturb me, like i'm resignated that it's my due condition.

(maybe i'll write the details, though for now i keep to that simple feeling.)

Clothes don't make the man?

The other day i dressed up for a forty minutes bike ride, full speed, to see a friend in the suburb, and on the way something struck me, i noticed that unconsciously the clothes i picked (randomly unassorted) were perfectly representing three facets of my personality.

First i tied the thick laces of my big brown boots, strapped tight to the ankles, those i bought in a sport adventure store and are walking boots, heavy sole and sturdy leather body, nicely reinforced, very good to break a shinbone in one blow.

Then i wore white long shorts, made with a solid fabric and getting down under the kneecap, it's wide and comfy, very good to twist and spin, not so much to do a split, those were gently offered to me by the girl i was running with (and not " running after" like it was a common joke for some people).

And last, as a top, i got in a black t-shirt with on the back a huge print of a warrior in a black armor, and with long white hair floating in a probably sulphuric air as in the background coming out of red and orange flames we have the dread to spot the head of a dragon surrounded by tortuous vines with thorns, this piece of clothing were from an unsold stock and a friend of mine working in a video game store kindly gave one to me (the game is called "Castlevania - lords of shadow" and is totally unknown by me).

So you see i had my reasons for picking those that day for that ride, mainly practical reasons (definitely not fashion ones), but unconsciously i wore three parts of my personality over my skin, the boots are the punk life style and rock'n'roll attitude, the shorts are my taste for exhausting myself in sports, and the t-shirt is the geek part in me that likes virtual worlds and imagination.

And this observation amused me greatly, i think generally we all wore clothes that we think represent us (except special cases) it's a matter of self esteem, knowing that it's easy to go against our taste and dress up to manipulate others, but that won't last long, we won't be fine long playing the chameleon, masks fall sooner or later, in a certain extend the way we dress up says a lot about our personality, another clue to choose the people we think could match with our inner self, reading the appearance to guess the mental, but all that is always interpretations, and other factors could be analysed, whatever, let's just be free to dress as we want only for ourselves.

Who is this J.K. ??

"Thought does not lead to love
The process of thought ever denies love. It is thought that has emotional complications, not love. Thought is the greatest hindrance to love. Thought creates a division between what is and 'what should be', and on this division morality is based; but neither the moral nor the immoral know love. This moral structure, created by the mind to hold social relationships together, is not love, but a hardening process like that of cement. Thought does not lead to love, thought does not cultivate love, for love cannot be cultivated as a plant in the garden. The very desire to cultivate love is the action of thought. If you are at all aware, you will see what an important part thought plays in your life. Thought obviously has its place, but it is in no way related to love. What is related to thought can be understood by thought, but that which is not related to thought cannot be caught by the mind. You will ask, then what is love? Love is a state of being in which thought is not; but the very definition of love is a process of thought, and so it is not love. We have to understand thought itself, and not try to capture love by thought. The denial of thought does not bring about love. There is freedom from thought only when its deep significance is fully understood; and, for this, profound self-knowledge is essential, not vain and superficial assertions. Meditation and not repetition, awareness and not definition, reveal the ways of thought. Without being aware and experiencing the ways of thought, love cannot be. J.K."