raising babies. / i get it. / success.

one takes all their life experience and tallies it up as they see fit. they purport this exerience as grand, and relay as much as they've learned unto their offspring, hoping for the best. terrifed when it goes awry.

. . .

i've been a huge proponent of the eat/sleep/fuck/piss/animal dogma for over a year, and I finally get it:
the animal instinct.
i've pussyfooted around the notion of letting the cat play outside. until now, i only let her out for a few minutes at a time. but today: i let her out for over and hour, and i can sense the so-called savage, and realize it as only a half-savage, half-love. let it be known: i only call it love to relate to human, or my relation of what humane is.

the cat wandered around our parking lot, the neighbour's apartment complex parking lot, the front yard, and the side street. for the most part, she'd follow at a distance, tagging along because i was familar (or was it obedience???). mostly, we'd be 10-15 feet apart. i tried my best to keep her in view, even if she'd crawl under obstructions (i'd chuse a sentient point where i felt i could see her at all times, even if obstructed). i basically watched her like a hawk at every juncture, and made sure she wouldn't run away. i can't help but think my presence inhibited her, even if i kept her safe.

well, here's what i learned about alejandra approaching new material for the first time.
-if she sees a peculiar plant, she'll spend a good deal of time biting at it, presumably tasting it. i don't know if this is imporatant, but i'd like to think she was probably becoming familiar with her surroundings and generating a comfort level. i noticed she spent a good deal of time chewing the grass immediately outside our door, even if she'd been away from that place long enough to seem to have forgotten it.

-i can call her. i don't know if it's obedience, or if it's loyalty, or both. if i felt she was going into dangerous territory, i'd click or sometimes make some noise indicating me half scolding her. occasionally, she would act extremely cautious in new, presumably unseen terrain. if i called her name and used familiar methods, she would run to me, rub her face against my hand, and continue upon her way, always venturing forward. i think this is important. establishing levels of comfort before braving forward.

this is all important because we tend to forget how familiar we are with our environment. if i'd hear a noise, i'd think of what it'd be like to be the cat who hadn't heard a certain bird/vulture/combustible engine before in her life, and think of how that might make me feel. maybe that's human empathy, i have no fucking idea. i have no fucking idea why i think following my cat in the wilderness might be a good idea, in the grand survival-esque scheme of things.

. . .

my aunt explained to me how the catholics kneel in church for fifteen minutes. how it is some rule from the catholic church. i asked her why do you have to kneel for fifteen minutes and she said she didn't know, because the catholic church said so. my drunk cousin chimed in, because god thinks you have to kneel for fifteen minutes. per week. so fucking stupid. i agree with a pursuit of some form of religion, as we all adopt a means to interpret our lives and shortcomings, but organized religion and ritualized practice seem so fucking rudimentary.

"i'm going to kneel for fifteen minutes and try to clear my thoughts and think about jesus and what he gave. i am trying to clear my thoughts. football.. . .poontang. . . .success. . . moderation . . ., i must moderate, i must strike somewhere between here and there ***both made up*** and be fearful and seek wanton success and further injustice. i will support what i think is wright and i will fly."

. . .

punk fuckers want me to play their games. i am researching what it means to be animal. and nobody cares. that's fine. it's all part of my research. all the more beneficial for my half-assed thesis if you don't real care.

. . .


everbody believes apocalypse, because they believe the end. i've come to terms with death vision: the birds will chirp and some moments will seem slower and more clear than other moments of confusion and fear. i don't embrace these moments or any, really. my cellphone was busted and wanton destructo boys want to see pixels burn holes in their screens so fucking what.

some people see lives. other's see just people. i tried to argue this and fell flat on my face. i say even if morality and aesthetic as subjective, you can still blindly determine a projected fate over the course of our measly lives.

amen brother, fuck all. morality? nada. free will? maybe. fate? guided, but true. values / aesthetic: somewhere between here and there.

wrestling with language as a social construction and hence verily subjective and inabsolue: wrong. 99% is good enough for me. my veins pump and my lungs breath.


..

i am a scared battery of warmth.

success.