[To set the scene: a large hay bail is lying in an open field over which the sun is rising. Mmm majestic. There are horses plodding around and a wagon probably trundles on by too. An orchestral piece that speaks of hope, possibility,fear, love, loss, coming-of-age, joy, distress, and possible indigestion swells in the background.]
The war has been raging for two years now and Mother and Father thought it no longer safe for me to be in the city. It was decided that I was to go and live with my great aunt, Great Auntie, in the country side until war was won. The talk on the wireless says that the fighting shouldn't last much longer.
Country living is awfully quiet. Great Auntie looks after retired farm animals and she gave me the task of entertaining them. Experts recommend that their minds are kept active with games like bridge and chess, otherwise they grow forgetful.
Last week, I was facing off the resident dairy cow in the chess finals It is said that she reigned regional champion in the 1920s. Of what? She has never specified but she always brings it up. As I was moving Knight to E5, the call of nature hit my bladder which such force I thought we had just won the war. Alas, no. I waddled to the bathroom in the farm house at speed. Fast forward to ten minutes later and my relieved body was making its way back to the chess game from which my mind had not left. But then... I passed Great Uncle's study [flashback to memory of a imposing Great Uncle telling me, "What ever you do in this house, young lady, don't go into my study! There are things in there that will definitely inspire a predictable World War movie plot!]
But now...
The study door was open.
Yes, I was forbidden from going in there but was I to do? The door was open. And there I was, a curious child from the city, wearing those old-timely, long socks that all the curious children in period movies wear, with no regard for people's privacy. I just had to go into this very off limits study.
Wait, wait, rewind for a little edit to flesh out this story.
I came out of the bathroom and my yo-yo (the yellow one that my mother gave me as I bordered the train), slipped from my hands and rolled across the wooden floors. When it reached the study door it paused for a moment, quickly stood up and opened the door and then it rolled into the forbidden study. I didn't know what to be more shocked about; the fact that the yo-yo had stood up or the fact that it was recklessly breaking Great Uncle's rule.
What was I meant to do now?
I glanced over my shoulder to ensure that Great Uncle was still in the sitting room with his soldier friends, talking about politics and the war efforts, before sneaking into the study.
There was the yo-yo. It was right next to a box which also looked private but intriguing but locked. Good thing I had my tiny Swiss Army Knife.
[rattle rattle clank clank jiggle jiggle]
The box opened.
What is this? What is this old, forgotten, moth-eaten haggard-looking piece of vile sh-
shard of mirror.
heck.
And this?
Another old forgotten, moth-eaten, haggard-looking piece of vile ... oh my god.
It's my blog.
This thing still exists.
Yes, I know I went back in time to show time passing but, you know what, Linda? Time is a concept. It's four months since I last posted on this floating piece of internet space so I thought, "exams are coming up soon, I should sink some time into my blog right about now". Exams bring about an awful lot of motivation for side projects.
I have been back at university. I have been at university for a few years now but that sentence still feels weird to say/type. It makes me feel a lot of things about how life is moving at an incredible pace and why are we even here. My existential sinkhole has just gotten a little bigger. I have recently been taught the importance of 'not suppressing your emotions' and frankly, I don't like it. University is weird and makes one feel various emotions in varying degrees (again, I don't like it). One minute you're going about your business then, next thing you know, you've been crying for three days straight, you have something due 5 hours ago, and you've started consuming coffee by means of eyeball shooters. Try and tell me I'm wrong but I firmly believe that that shit is meant to be suppressed.
It is in these times of great stress and overwhelmedness (@oxforddictionary, there's a new word for you) that we, and I say "we" because I'm dragging everyone down with me, we find ourselves watching YouTube videos of the greatest performances in the Olympic 500m sprint, small German Shepards learning how to swim, documentaries on serial killers, or Kalen Allen reviewing strange recipes (if you haven't already, watch his videos. They're hilarious). In the moment, it's great and I get to watch small puppies staggering around in bright orange life jackets that are far too big for them. However, in the long run these videos do not exactly bring a great sense of accomplishment into my life (surprise!).
To combat all of that and to combat my tendency to go into to go into a hermity hibernation mode, I thought that I would 'get my act together' (direct quote from my high school history teacher in 2013 when I forgot about an assignment) and get back to this here blog situation. So, back at it again with the pointless rambles and far below average quality photography. Perhaps even back at it again with the 21 day challenge situation?
Who knows? Certainly not me! And that's a phrase that I enjoy applying to my entire life.
I am currently house sitting which makes hermiting very easy. My company is a cat who is anxious about everything, particularly her litter box which she runs away from the second she has finished using it. There is also a tremendous amount of cat politics that takes place in the complex. Because the cat I'm looking after is such an anxious wreck, she never leaves the house and has become the target of the complex bully cat (in this instance 'complex' refers not only to the block of flats but also to the bully cat's psyche. Bullies are often complex individuals. Why do they bully? Are they insecure? Who has belittled this cat in the past to make him this way? Perhaps he just wants to express his sexuality but is a victim of internalised homophobia? There are many questions we can raise but it is up to him to seek therapy and unpack his past. There is only so much we can do). He (the bully cat) often sits outside the kitchen window arrogantly meowing what I can only assume are 'your mom' jokes. Once again, a sign of immaturity and insecurity #prayforbullycat. Poor Anxious Cat is now a victim of Bully Cat's unresolved issues. News on the street is that Bully Cat is training a new Kitten Cat to be his sidekick. Hopefully Kitten Cat will find an inspirational basketball coach that will get him off the streets and away from Bully Cat's influence. Maybe he'll go to college and become a lawyer? #prayforkittencat
Anxious Cat and I have become firm friends. She likes to run into my room when my alarm goes off in the morning to ensure that I don't over sleep. If I try to hit the snooze button, she will come and sit on my pillow, as close to my face as possible, and purr loudly and continuously until I recognise the error of my ways. If that's not a friend, I don't know what is.
Who needs to sleep past 6:30?
"Not you!" says Anxious Cat, before scurrying away because she has been far more assertive than usual and she's uncomfortable with that.
Perhaps Anxious Cat also needs to start addressing her emotions?
Anyway, that's where I end today.
Thanks for reading!
There is an Instagram page for more unaesthetic photos: @some_daze_
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I feel very connected to anxious cat. Like, spiritually?