I hurt…

September 13, 2010



I haven’t hurt in a while…

Right now I hurt.

I have been hurting.

I do still hurt.

I hurt.




I am better than I deserve.

Today I saw a painting…

A friend of mine painted this painting.

It is of a sunset, and of TWO pesons fishing.

The TWO… is significant.

The other is of a lonely pearl.

There were TWO paintings… did I not tell you?

No. No, I guess I did not.

Anyway, while I lay here, hurting… I am also laying here,

looking… at these paintings…

Bravo, painter friend…

(What is it about art that makes me ask all the questions at

once? What is it that draws me in -curious- and spits me out

with answers of only maybe-flavored “certainlies.” ?)

Whatever it is, it has done it again…

My roommate’s bed’s been ruined this night, by my

ridiculously rebellious cats… three of them there are, and

 they cause enough trouble for themselves and four feline-

generations besides…

-I sigh-

with sympathy, and pity for my nowly floor-bedded


the perpetrators have been exiled to the land of “third

story balcony”… with not but dry rice/chicken/corn bits,

and water… as they beg with claws, upon windowframes and

doorjams… my mind races through a thousand possible

trajectories that may ensure their silence…

several selections from this list are as follows…

I could:

Drop them, from the roughly 30 foot height, to their

nighdeaths… below…

or… place a certain, oddly-suited chair overtop of their

heads, in a sort of “in the stocks” fashion… rendering

their desire to disturb mine and my roommates slumber,

unsatiable due to an irreconcilable distance.

or… I could… place various objects as a buffer, (Which I

have done.) between them and the door upon which their

disturbance is wrought… thereby ensuring peace… and

quiet tranquility for all of us house-dwellers who made the

wise, proper, rational, freedom-preserving! choice NOT TO…

poop on the beds of the masters… of the house.

-I shake my head-

And after that wonderful adVERTisement… would anyone of

you there, be interested, or know of one -or several- who

may be interested… in providing a warm home for these

three, -presently- cold cats?

(I did -mind you- place an old pillow upon the balcony for

their comfort and warmth… and, seeing as it is essentially

still the weather of summer… the night is not unacceptably

chilly, as it is, withOUT any such MERCIFUL comfort as a

warm pillow.)

Lo! what is this I hear? Be it the scratch of a claw upon my

well-defended door?

If it be so, and I daresay ‘t’is… I may, as of yet, be

persuaded to employ one of my formerly mentioned courses of

action… or perhapsably an even more violent selection will

be made… from my thousands of possiblies…


“Be content!” I am wont to yell -if only in my mind-

“content with your lot… your miserable, self-deserved lot!

and leave me be, in peace and quiet for a simple night’s


Silence resumes, after having tossed the unruly prisoner

of the pile of bufferage… (You… thought I was going to

say balcony… tisk.tisk. nay. nay… not yet, at least.)

I have not well-slept in several days. Strange dreams have

visited my slumber… overstaying their welcome, by hours

and hours, infact,  keeping my mind from its bed.

Courteously, has my mind stayed, with the door to

“conscious” open, if but a crack, to hear them out, in their

wild spinning of bizzare yarns on the doorstep.

I must post a sign, or send them a letter IN the post,

requesting that they visit at a more convenient hour, and by

no means staying as late as they have become comfortable.

How inconsiderate. and yet, dreams have never been known to

be the most sensible, at any rate.

I feel that it is coming upon time to shut the doors to

conscious… and I’ve taken extra precaution in seeking out

windows that might pose any like-mannered concerns… but my

door creaks as it swings on its hinges, and that creak has

been known to give alarm to the dreams that so often seem to

find their way at the last of moments prior to the


Perhaps, this night I shall instruct my mind to dispense

with its courtesy and simply shut.the.door. ? but then… my

mind hasn’t proven to be the most obedient of servants in

the past… still… it is… worth a try.

I will bid you all a very gratuitous farewell…

your reading of these thoughts have honoured my existence,

perhaps more than you know.


-MAC <>< = )


That…. cat… -Again, I sigh-

The mercenary, Violence, whispers in my ear. He says, “I can

get the job done… I’m just the thing…”

And oh, how right he seems…

(My friend did say she would be willing to automobil-ly

dispense of these feline pests… but we will refrain, for the time being,

in order to confirm whether or not such drastic measures

need actually be taken.)

Again, I say to you, thankyer… and… g’night!

Keep Smyling/Praying/Trusting God…


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