At the door everyday, she greets me with her siren call for affection. It would seem that it is also her siren call for food, but I've learned to distinguish the accompanying quirks...
More often than not it is a squeak for affection; a hello; a recognition of time past - though time for cats and time for humans are profoundly different things.
And then there is Gizmo, fleet of foot, bipolar in mind. Are you a jungle kitty? Or are you the one that coyly climbs on the bed when I bed down, confused at my inanimateness, licking me, longing for affection, wanting to make up for your pride earlier in the day.
But what are we, really?
Are we this?
By the time we got to woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration
And I dreamed I saw the bombers
Riding shotgun in the sky
And they were turning into butterflies
Above our nation
We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devils bargain
And we've got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
[Joni Mitchell, " Woodstock"]
Or are we this
Waves of fear, attack in the night
waves if revulsion, sickening sights
My heart's nearly bursting, my chest's choking tight
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, squat on the floor
looking for some pill, the liquor is gone
Blood trips from my nose, I can barely breathe
waves of fear, I'm too scared to leave
[Lou Reed "Waves of Fear"]
Or are we this
So will we die of shock?
Die without a trial?
Die on Good Friday?
While holding each other tight
This is kind of about you
This is kind of about me
We just kinda lost our way
We were looking to be free
But one day
We'll float
Take life as it comes
We'll float
Take life as it comes
[PJ Harvey, 2000]
Or do we belive our soul a becoming
I could stay here
Become someone different
I could stay here
Become someone better
[Chan Marshall, 1998]
Or do we come back to the chirp of affection.
It is a simple question really - what most drives us? The sense of affection, the sense of alienation, the conflagration of both, or the reflection of these. Or are we sophistocated enough to believe that basic instincts don't influence the cult of personality?
They do.
In crazy and unpredictable ways...
So how do we make our world, their world?