Friday, December 19, 2008

this year's love

It’s strange when you wake up one day and find yourself in a routine. Lately, my days have been filled with endless fillers- pointless hours disguised as life and work and all the things we do each day. I’ve learned to stop paying attention, to fake that glow in my eyes when people talk to me. Everything’s a blur and at some point, you have to accept that everything becomes absolutely pointless.

And so, an unwelcome change came. I’ve got this weird virus and I can’t come to work. I find myself with so many hours at my disposal with no single clear resolution. I tried to watch a Wong Kar Wai DVD but after a few scenes, my eyes started getting heavy. I tried surfing the net but I ended up sleepy yet again. It seems my virus has me doing the one thing I abused when I was well: sleep.

By the time I felt well enough, I turned on my computer and finished the post I intended to publish last week. I don’t usually edit my posts so this one is quite different.

Oh grow up.

About a week ago, I met a nice black kitten. He was playing with a twig and didn’t mind much when I came close to touch him. We exchanged a few meows and purrs and after saying goodbye fifty million times, I opened the gate and went home. It was such a breath of fresh air – a street cat who isn’t afraid of humans. I would’ve said he was being avante garde but if I were to be honest to myself and to my new friend, I knew he was being naïve.

Two days later, he was dead. I saw his guts splattered on the concrete and he had a strange expression on his face. I wanted to take a picture to show my friends so that they could confirm but honestly, I think he was smiling.

A bigger black cat walked towards us. I assumed she was his mother and so I got up and let the woman grieve. As I walked away, she sprung up in defense and I could hear her anger through her fangs. She was older and in cat sense, wiser not to trust humans. People will kill you, if you let them, she seemed to say.

People will kill you, if you let them. I’m not talking about getting run over or shot. I’m talking about a harder death. They can suck the youth off of your fingertips if you let them. There’s a voice in my head that tells me to stop and cling to whatever youth I have left. There’s another that says if I’m to survive, I need to be big and brave like that mother cat. It’s a big old world filled with petty quarrels and holidays designed to make you feel like a major loser and if you don’t learn to adapt, you could one day find yourself on the pavement with your pink parts exposed to the world.

Question is: do I lick my wounds and become calloused or die with a smile on my face?

As I got home last night from what felt like such a long day, I glanced at the sky and saw something I haven’t seen before in my twenty-two years of existence. I was beginning to think they weren’t really real but last night, it shone in its brief teal glory. They say you have to wish when you see a falling star. I closed my eyes and through clenched teeth, I wished to grow up.