Admittedly, she was a replacement for another more well loved mongrel, but she was never neglected.
Everyone loved her and were concerned for her well being — until they got to know her. She appeared smart, and seemed outwardly loving, but truth is, she was more cunning than cute. In time, we recognized her as a benign parasite, often getting herself into trouble with indifference towards those who spent countless hours working on her comfort and well being.
But today, she crossed a line and claimed something for herself that was obviously *not* and for that she was summarily expelled, though only for the morning I’d hoped. When I returned to call her in, she was gone. For a brief moment, I was alarmed, but then placated, knowing she’d left willfully, and not because I’d done anything overtly condemning or violent.
In my mind, I’d imagined her journey — would she meet a swift end, a friendly companion, or perhaps a new and not so loving owner?
In all, the pondering was for nothing, because before I could complete my thoughts on her final outcome, she was gleefully returned, flea bitten and begging for scraps of beef medallions.
…on a five acre plain. I couldn’t help but notice. I cut concentric circles until I approached the first and couldn’t bring myself to mow it down, nor the second, so two small arcs were traced for their safety.
I want them to go to seed, these late bloomers, oddities amongst the grass and ant mounds more common to this time of year. This will be the last time I mow this season before the weather changes in earnest, and thus these flowers are for me the last of the year before spring.
Two little flowers persist, colorful amidst the grey. The symbolism is profound, personal.
Contrast the simple beauty of nature embodied in these fragile and temporary vessels against the cold bitterness of man’s despair and take comfort that they will inevitably survive despite us, and as surely break ground again whether we actively choose to spare the blade.
I spared them for me as an act of selfishness — they will never need my charity as much as I need their beauty.
Concise and to the point, it’s what one really says when one’s head and mouth are full of words. At this point, there is little to be accomplished from attempts at changing another’s perspective as it relates to current events so why bother. If one hasn’t found ones people, then perhaps there are *none to be found*, at least not in the immediate, and that is potentially problematic.
The time now is to say what you mean to those willing to listen, but mostly to find those who agree.
Time is running out. If this isn’t clear, then I’m here to say it. *Don’t waste your breath*.
…but is trusting random people, or worse *misinformed familiars*, in real life, really any better?
What is the standard for trust in the modern era?
On occasion I speak at length to people in real life and often they describe the experience as “perspective changing,” but since have no real platform from which to speak *other than personal experience*, why should they trust anything I have to say? I speak in platitudes and can be rude or brusque, which is to say I am no better than they in delivery, but despite this commonality, why is it that my perspective remains mostly the same while theirs alters in some more meaningful way? I’ve never thought to ask…
Many here have influenced my way of thinking, I admit, and am thankful for it, but it is not without a healthy amount of skepticism have I progressed forward in my own parallel journey — what quality is it then that makes one individual more trustworthy than another, even without direct objective proof?
