unfinished stuff i’ll never finish
Hey. . hey cat, I like your little toes. I like the way your fur feels under my little hands. Cat, cat, come here, cat.
Simply sitting in that place with the strange trees; skies of purple, grass of blue…Lady White seems to be resting on the pink pathway, but it seems the closer I get the more desaturated the world becomes. I wonder if I will be able to find her.
A creature that ruled the night, balanced on the scales between life and death. The sleek silhouette of unattainable infinite knowledge - the eye; inverted darkness — the black cat! . . Symbolic, maybe - literal? Potentially—
What say we to a creature so hellbent on independence and solitude, affection only on their terms? Even in these nights the felines play dirty, yes, to be worthy of the cats affection is an important post — useful only out of necessity. But if you keep a cat colony, do you know how quickly it turns to chaos? … The cat, you see, needs a meal— ha, ha, ha. Yes, we call their independence into question;
Part time affection, inaudible discontent. . it is through the eyes the cat communicates. I have said it; ‘Watch the eyes, watch them blink - never once, always twice, and sometimes, even six. I’ve not seen the eye myself, but sometimes, in that silence, I am so utterly positive it is there.’ . . yes! YES! Can you see it?
Look to where the cats gaze falls; shadow, bug or green bird… none really know. I have sought out the answers for some years, collecting, watching, observing -
So strange. A mass so forceful descends into chaos too quickly. A single cat balances gracefully between life and death, a hoard favours the left.
A whisper in the trees.
I had a vision, a thought - perhaps this happened before. . ?
It is only now I am able to say Quincy. I understand him, now - and in that understanding, what brilliant loathing.
I have none, and that is better than having a bad one. Carry yourselves well, my brothers and sisters. Mind your dignitas, and let your ambitions take flight.
S.L., Prince of Los Angeles
I fear they don’t understand the rules of the game. Flatter the prince in dignity, but, o, o - suffocate him with it too. A dead body makes a nicer seat warmer than no figurehead at all- ha, ha, ha.
- Caitlyn Siehl (via insanity-here-i-come)
Mister Quincy is asleep.
It is dark out, now;
I’m just going to wait;
going to wait;
w a i t ————
665, what a t e r r i b l e number! ha, ha, ha -
One day, one day- — two x
I want to give you a gift! The answer to this riddle; what is
Red box, oh, red box-
there you a
To whom does this face belong?
Darling, o, o, o; Darling o; love!
Roosting in the autumn twilight;
Sturnidae he is not; what has he?
No freedom, nor home.
|· quatvondee ·|