My cat's philosophy on life is pretty simple; love it (those who feed him), drive it out of the yard (the neighbors cats), try to kill it (the squirrels), and if he weren't fixed, mate with it.
About me. Loved and lost, loved and lost again, then I gave up and headed far east to seek my fortune. I haven’t found it just yet but I am hopeful and I can feel myself getting closer. On those especially lonely days and nights I dream of white picket fences or quaint stone walls but the closest I have come thus far is a fiercely loyal tuxedo tom-cat with a personality as noble as his name, Luciano. And as for this, well it is an exercise in boredom and a means to alleviate the cramps I get from too much writing by hand. I wish I were one of those people with an interesting hobby or amazing kids to write about, but until then, it’s all about a stray thought or random event and a moment spent trying to find the words to share it. As the demotivators calendar says, “Never before have so many people with so little to say said so much to so few.” Indeed. But without kingdoms to defend, mammoths to hunt, and villages to loot and pillage, what the hell else are we supposed to do? Life will get better and eventually I won’t have time for this, my fortune cookie said so
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