05/02/12 On Shaving.

I hate shaving. Because I probably suck at it. Which I probably don't.

However there always seems to be one or two hairs that always evades my deft blades. And if it weren't for them, I would be essentially content over the matter. Which isn't to say that every shaving experience I've ever had was horrid, but still.

At this moment, my cat's sandpaper quality tongue is rasping against my arm. It's rough. And painful. And my cat... he think it's some great deed for his servant undoubtedly. I'm wearing jeans today. Which was smart of me. For if I hadn't, my legs would be covered in painful red splotches where this cat's claws have liberally dug in.

He is fascinating for a cat. A lovely species of felis domesticus as any other but this one. This blotched speck of a blur is most interesting to me. For you see, we share a history. I found him in the waiting area of a Wal-Mart way back in the day. And this daemon has followed my history ever since. He wasn't always this courteous of course. At one time, he wanted my blood, and my arm to this day shows the savage marks of tooth and claw as it was ravaged by feral rage.

But that is a tale for another day. Instead I offer the world the consideration of thus.

I am in pain. A level deeper than the bites that crisscross me from time to time. This pain is deeper still. It resides in my mind as a dagger poised to stab. In my heart as a claws waiting to rend. In my muscles, taking on the form of a sponge, to sap away my strength.

I don't really know what to think of it. But thus I recall and wonder is that what should be has thus been done. And as it is; I could neither question nor beg for the reality of that which is around me.

Instead I live this pain. This quality that is intertwined into my being. I offer it a chalice of my blood; one of my tears and one of my bile. In each it has the power to destroy me. For of blood is my energy, that which propels me into the future. In the tears I hold my longing. The sensation of hearts recompense. In bile I hold my health; tied to all others yet independent to the heart.

It is thus that I have noted.

And the Lord Zepheryus would not hold against my heart and my soul; nor the reason by which I can not profligate myself be told. Ugh off to bed with me.