K (snugandevil) wrote,

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Get What, Get Back

I don't mind a baby crying in a restaurant; it doesn't phase me.
It doesn't affect me in the least because the small human life does not belong to me.
In theory this kind of detachment should have held today, but never have I ever heard a kitten scream like this.

My kitten's former partner in crime is visiting for a few days. I'm glad he has a friend, it gives his mother a break. And the Tofu Cowboy always said that Chairman hated the car; but to be honest I thought he was exaggerating. Exaggerating is what Philosophy/Theatre double majors do, right?
God damn; that shrieking beast of an otherwise docile, if not limp-wristed kitten was hyperventilating on the drive to my apartment. His meows were actually painful and ear piercing and I listen to a lot of music that much of the world would describe as torture.

He is now happy and at my home playing with Kitten; but really. . .I almost couldn't handle it.

Of course nothing has been decreed employmentwise in the passing of this work day; but that is fine.
All the more reason to take a kitten home with you and once the children are playing, crack open the vodka.

I don't much care for being alone in times of remembrance and anxiety. Beyond my simple fear of attack, it makes me worry that I've used up my capacity for non-violence and the next break-in is going to result in fight or flight. It makes me feel like a failure to be. . .
But coming home to an empty house, I was able to pretend it wasn't me living by the good graces of glorious women, but that it was my own place and I was living my own life.
And the next obvious branch of that solitary and independent existence is, of course, to get smashed and dance around the house.

So yes, practically in a catsuit of my own due to the shedding of combined fur, I shrugged off my clothes of the day and slid into my brothers old tee-ball shirt. In my tight orange, I began to make some noodles and drink some drink.

Pleasantly punched, I moved on to my video.
(yes, we have a video!. . .I miss the Young Ones DVDs already)
Grosse Pointe Blank is one of my favorites. Granted it has all kinds of pleasant connotations, but I've realized as of late, how much significance and emphasis I put on that particular year of my life. I am a bit to young to be "reliving" the good old days so no more talk of such matter.

In a completely unoriginal fashion, I adore John Cusack and how can I disapprove of a romantic comedy with near constant gunfire and The Ace of Spades in the background of an exploding convenience store, once a childhood home.

I thought I would take a break and see if the world had anything to offer, but it seems I should just stay in my cave with the kittens. I've still got 2 videos from Helena that I borrowed and the lovely roommate K. left me 3 free rentals.

Who needs reality, when I have the cinema
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