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Meow goes the cat
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I had dreamed that my watch read 30:30, and I was anxiously thinking "I shouldn't be here at that time.. I muddled up my life's time, I am missing somwhere else, in another time, and I came here" A great mess, while the numbers shone 30: 30, not p.m., not a.m., just the numbers, and me who was abscent from another place and stuck in a barrier of time that kept saying to me over and over again 30:30, 30:30...
I am really upset at our behaviour.. What would be my reaction when someone robs me of my aim, my life's targets? I would be really agitated, trying to do anything to fill this void, to make believe a sense of purpose.. Busy my hands and thoughts in random things, try to look -and feel- occupied, consume the energy that was meant in the first place to help me walk eagerly in a path clearly determined by some divine instinct cast upon the heart.. I would also have occasional moments of recognition, then afterwards lamenting the stolen life that I should have lived, and the fruits I should have picked from the harvest of my hypothetical hard work that I knew I would have done, the seeds being yet untouched and might expire soon...
A real misery, torn between confusion on one hand, and bitter acceptance and adaptation -which always fails- to the current pseudo-life on the other hand, looking from time to time in the eyes, deep in the eyes, of others around me, trying to get a glimpse that would tell me that all I am feeling, the conflict, is real, and not just my imagination, as I am forced to believe..
If that would be my situation, why then do I blame my cat for any behaviour expressing agitation? He has the right to bring down this house. We, selfish beings, decide that we want a creature -who has a clear aim of life, not disturbed or blurred by any thoughts or desires or doubts like that we have that interefer with our clear aims and ends- we want that creature, to be ours, to serve as a pleasant moving and reacting possession, encouraged by its friendly nature and its habits and ways of learning that suits our lives and domestic hygiene and safety, and forget and neglect its needs, then start blaming it if its behaviour does not fit us.. This poor cat, unable to reproduce as it was destined to, and live its life among other creatures that bear no resemblance to it, except for a set of eyes and a mouth..
If I know that someone cannot speak the language of the people around him, neither understand their signs and manners, I would pity him deeply, for he would either abandon all that is in him to fit among them -and that an animal can never do- or he would feel very depressed, and I would wish very much that he had at least one companion, just one, from the land where he came from, so they would converse together at times when people get tired of making them understand or are not in the mood of social amiability.. Why is a cat, or a bird, or a fish, any different? If we cannot provide them with enough company and enough space and enough nature and enough liberty to reproduce, then for God's sake, why do we play with their lives?
Oh I tell him now, go on and knock everything down, storm across rooms, meow as loud as you can, I will sing out at the top of my voice too.. Never mind the deaf, but the sleeping ones, they might wake up and join us until we are all synchronized..

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