The Circus is in town

My name is Cirque. French for circus. The pack mother decided to name me that after seeing me run around in circles. I have since stopped all circling activities, but the name stuck. It is not easy to change the minds of others once the first impression has been made. I have learned my lesson.

In a way I am lucky. The pack leader has considered naming me 'Spraycan' or 'Idiot'. Sometimes he still calls me SMD (Stupid Male Dog). Usually when I pull and tug the leash or pee in the wrong place. I know he doesn't like it, but it's my instinct to mark my territory, okay? Even you two legged things do that. I've seen many of them spitting all over the place. If that's not territory marking, I dunno what it is. And you humans say we're dirty. Sheeesh.

Anyway today, I was sent to live with another family. The pack leader mumbled something bout a few days, but I dunno if I'm being abandoned (again) for bad behaviour or something. Don't think so tho. He seemed reluctant to leave me behind. Said something bout some other SMD going over to his place or something. Afraid I'll fight. Afraid I'll fight and lose. Heh, BRING IT ON!!! I'll fight till the DEAAAAATH.....

It is my nature to fight. I dunno why but it just is. Maybe if I turn vegetarian I'll stop. Hahaha, good joke...

Anyway I'm stuck with this new family, and there's this other pack leader. He commands respect, and so I give it. There seems to be a second in command, but he's no threat. I can chew him up anytime.

And then there's this nymphomanic bitch. I mean this bitch just jumps up and down like the energizer bunny. Like what gives? That's not a dog. That's a furry thing on speed (a slang word for a type of drug: for those who don't know). It's embarassing to be around that thing. And my pack leader keeps shoving my face into her arse. Like I'm gonna smell THAT!

Yeahsure I know us dogs smell each others arses to get a wift (get it? heh) of each other's scent, but this jumping furry jelly bean? No dog-shittin way! It's like she hasn't seen the male of the species all her life! She'd better not hump me or I'm gonna get sooooo pissed.

Anyway I got chucked over there and left behind by my pack leader. Whatever the reason, I'll sort it out with him if he comes back. The last one didn't. Left me for dead in a stupid run-down playground. There I found some friends. And then their pack mother adopted me. Then she introduced me to the pack leader. Well, more like he came around and I immediately knew. All pack leaders command respect. And I gave it. And he took me in and took care of me.

So back to the nympho bitch and my issue with being left behind. It's like how you human things operate. You get other human things to do the work for you, or live with you or something. And then when you don't need them anymore, like you can't pay them or you don't love them or something, you leave them behind. Like you leave us behind.

Anything that inconvenieces you, you leave behind. You get rid of it. You get rid of employees, workers, relationships, pets, families... It's like you people can't even live with your own shit. Always looking for some escape-ism.. did I spell that right? Escapism. Can't handle your shit. Leave it behind. And you call yourselves responsible beings? My padded foot.

Always biting off more than you can chew. Even dogs like us don't bite off too much at one time. Well, some of us do. But most don't. Most of us know our limits. Like I won't go provoke a bigger dog than myself. That's just suicidal. I know one dog who does... the idiot always picks a fight and loses. Truly an SMD.

Anyway what I'm trying to say is that you human things always disregard us dogs and cats. Always taking us for granted. Buying us from pet stores and then chucking us aside once we become 'inconvenient' for you. Selfish. Only thinking of yourselves.

Pack leader says he'll come get me in a few days time. I believe him. There is something in his eyes. Truth. I will wait for him. Out of respect I will tolerate this crazy jumping bitch. Pack leader always says I need to be patient. Maybe this is a test.

I'll pray... for patience.


--Cirque--

Revenge of De Gato

I sit silently in the dark, waiting for my chance to pounce. He walks about, unsuspecting. Thinking his life in his head. Thinking mediocre things like work and family and relationships and such.

What's family? My mum left me when I was two months old. Never seen her since. I never knew my dad. Worthless bugger. Screwed my mum and left her to fend for the four of us. I was the only one to survive.

What's work? You work your @$$ off every day just to make enough money to survive. To SURVIVE! An ironic suggestion. Stupid reason. What's survival if you spend it working to continue living to work the next day so you can repeat the process a thousand times over until you die. And when you're on your death bed you wonder what you did with your life. Nothing. Just work.

You people are so caught up in this fictitious idea of life that you have that it requires you to work to survive. Most of you do not even like it. Yet you do it coz there isn't anything else you can do with your life, can you? Or maybe that thought just never occurred to you.

To those who enjoys their work, good for you. You've learnt a valuable lesson. But the moment you dislike any part of it, then you belong to the earlier group of misinformed misfits. Lost souls searching for the reason of their existence.

What's the point of working so hard? If you can't enjoy any part of it? Especially the work itself. It's not about the growth. It's about the process of getting there.

Relationships. Bullshit mother f******g shit! What are relationships? Partnerships? Being together? Crap. All crap. All of it. You're in a relationship for moral support. To be loved. To be able to love. Yet you criticise each other, try to change each other. Complain about growth. Complain about not growing. Complain about the material things that will end up immaterial after all.

In the end, all you want is a shoulder to cry on. Someone to screw in the middle of the night, or day, or morning, or whatever fancies you. You want someone to talk to. To listen. Even if they can't do anything about it. It helps to have someone listening. Well, I can do that same. I can do all the above. And not worry about relationships. In the end, you just want someone to be there. No matter how much you deny it. How much you can afford and want to be alone. You always want someone to be there.

And I can be there. I know when to be there.

Like now. Like how I am here now.

I am sitting in the darkness watching his every move. He is unsuspecting. Unaware. It is now time to strike...

...

In blinding quickness I pounce on his calf, giving him a loving bite as I do. He recoils in surprise and reacts accordingly. I am shoved with his foot and I tumble backwards. Seeing inevitable loss, I hastily retreat to the darkness, where I await another chance...

And in the darkness, I see once again another chance. This time I will not fail... for I am, de Gato. The cat named Chap...

The Lemon Yellow - Royal Blue Bottle

On the subject of Aura-soma. The art of deciphering one's life path and purpose through the use of coloured bottles. Pick a bottle and the colours will show you your path. Rather, the bottles choose you.

So I chose the Lemon Yellow - Royal Blue bottle. My diagnosis?

The yellow represents the knowledge learned and gathered throughout your life (up until now I presume). And the blue says that I see things in a broad prespective (good thing, init?) BUT I fail to convince others to see the same. Therefore, it results in me giving up trying to explain myself or getting frustrated by the whole scenario.

The bottles have told the trugh before. I therefore do not doubt them again. So when I was faced with new challenges I saw that it was true.

Maybe it's pride knowing that my vision extends beyond that of the average person that makes me as stubborn as I am. And yet, I try to humble myself, telling myself that if so many agree, then it must be I who is short-sighted.

Then events unfold and people talked. And what they tell me, confirmed that I did foresee certain events and circumstances. And so the bottles do not lie. They tell the truth.

And so when you claim to know what it is I am talking about, do you really? Do you really see what I see? Or do you see a superficial manifestation of something you fabricate to fill in the void that you see? Do you pretend to know so much, that you begin to live a pretentious life?

Do you fake it, to the point where you're no longer true? To yourself. To others. Living a life which has as much meaning as the superfluos goals you set out to achieve?

Sometimes I see too much. You have not grown. Not in the sense you wish to. You only convince yourself that you have, when all you have achieve means nothing in the universal sense. Have you really grown? Or are you still faking it?

For fear? For you do not know how else to proceed? For you are lost? Because you cannot admit that you do not know.

Musings

Locked in his single room apartment, Private Investigator Cuttlefish sits at his desk, pondering the many choices he has in front of him.

Life has been tough of late, with work piling up and getting no where. Business goes on as usual with the usual scandals and dramas that find themselves in the lap of people with no imagination or much purpose to life other than the perverse entertainment of other similar people.

He ponders aloud the questions that plague his clustered constipated mind. Why can't they just leave each other alone? The world would be such a peaceful place if people didn't have to cheat all the time on their spouses or have hidden cameras hidden or attempt to dis-credit politicians.

And of course he would be out of job.

Well, there's always other things he can do... like maybe write a book. Or something.

In any case, he drops his ponderings and turns his attention to the task at hand. Which applications should he add in facebook...

Shovelling Snow

How I love that phrase from Haruki Murakami's Dance Dance Dance. It was the prefect way to describe society's obsession with routine.

Shovelling snow. Like mopping, or sweeping. An unthinking task that we do as routine on a routinely daily/weekly (for some, monthly) basis. Much like the rest of our lives. Lived out in routine.

Devoid of any form of thought or much purpose (other than to get the job done and have a clean floor). Passionless.

It is no wonder that most artists, with their seemingly spontaneous-living-for-the-present lifestyle have a more fulfilled time.

Forget about the material world. For what good is money when all you do with it is routine?

The power of mopping

Many people overlook the simple but yet important lessons we can learn from simple yet mundane everyday chores.

Like mopping for example.

How does one mop a floor? Simple, you dip the mop into a pail full of soapy water. Squeeze the water out and mop the floor, right? Then rinse and repeat. Literally.

Some people prefer to mop twice. Once with soapy water, and once with plain water to rinse out the soap. Some don't even mop at all.

One rather effective way to do it, is to mop once with a fairly damp mop. And then mop over it with a thoroughly squeezed semi-dry mop. This usually ensures a nice clean finish.

So how does this relate to the important life lesson I mentioned earlier? Its so simple I bet you never thought of it.

The method one chooses to mop creates a different result. The more passionate you are going about the chore, the better the result. Pretty much how things work in life, doesn't it? You mop just so you want to get it done and over with, so that you can knock off early and do something else, and tomorrow you are faced with a dusty floor.

Like everything else, it's something that must be done (sooner or later). How you want to do it, now that's something only you can decide.

Nightly excursions?

Time flies when you're actually doing something with it. That was how after a four month spell, mild-mannered Kalamari came to be sitting at his desk in the middle of the night, mulling over what little obscurities to add to his menagerie of quirky insights which may be too quirky for most (or some) to stomach.

Another time for all the pleasantries that we've missed in the past four months. Right now, the flavour of the day is a simple thought which weaseled its way through to the binary recesses of cyberspace.

An episode earlier with the reliable and ever-concerned father yielded a most surprising thought which could be of actual use if one were to stop yakking and 'listen' for a bit.

'Listening' is an art many have lost in this time and age when all we do is yak yak yak all the time about our own little perks and adventures and trysts and misadventures and whatnots. As if anyone ever cared about what's happening in 'your' life when they're too busy relating 'their' life-stories to no one in particular. No one in particular who would actually 'listen'. Yes, we're all too caught up in our selfish little selves to actually pay attention to what's going on around us.

In any case, the father episode began with a little bit of repetitive advisory and the mention of things that need no further mentioning. (such as the need of one's car for servicing-which was mentioned by the owner numerous times earlier throughout the day) No harm done, with a simple reminder, but keep at it every five minutes and it gets to you.

So mild-mannered Kalamari in his own little mild-mannered way said this to him.

"There are two types of people in the world. (yeah, we've always heard something along this line before-no originality there...) Those who see what needs to be done and tells everyone about it. And those who see what needs to be done and do it."

And that pretty much sealed the deal.